


Sifting Through the Sands

by bittergrin



Series: Sand, Tide, and Flame [1]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Animal Death, Body Horror, Cthulhu Mythos, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:40:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 29
Words: 87,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26112016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bittergrin/pseuds/bittergrin
Summary: Jack Kelly was thirteen the first time he was attacked by a werewolf.David Jacobs was fourteen the first time he cast a spell.
Relationships: David Jacobs/Jack Kelly, Kid Blink/Mush Meyers, Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins
Series: Sand, Tide, and Flame [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2142681
Comments: 213
Kudos: 117





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Except for the prologue, this is set in 2018.

Jack Kelly was thirteen the first time he was attacked by a werewolf. Well, he supposed ‘attacked’ wasn’t the right word for it. But ‘accidentally clawed in panic’ by a werewolf didn’t have quite the same ring to it. He and Race had been rooming together for a few months at that point but had known each other since they were much younger. His former roommate, Spot, had been sent to a proper foster home for a while. Jack expected he’d be back in another month or two, neither of them ever lasted long with families.

He was happier rooming with Race than Spot, although he couldn’t say the same about the staff. Spot wasn’t the worst roommate, but he stopped a lot of Jack’s crazier schemes. Race, on the other hand, one-upped a lot of Jack’s crazier schemes. He was surprised the staff hadn’t split them up after the second 3 a.m. fire alarm or that thing with the tree.

Jack heard a panicked bark in his sleep and then felt sharp claws raking down his arm. Jack sat upright. Another bark and claws on his leg. A large golden dog was trying and failing to jump into his bed. Another loud bark. He looked at the clock, seeing the time, and then tried to shush the dog.

“Quiet, you’re going to get us in trouble. How’d you get in here?”

The dog just whined.

Jack dropped off of his bed, feeling lines of pain as he knelt beside the dog. He looked down at his arm and leg, noticing the scratches from the panicked dog’s claws. It’d only scraped up his arm but had broken the skin on his leg. “Look what you did.” He pointed at his leg.

The dog sniffed at his leg and whined again.

“Race, how the hell did you get this dog in here?” Jack turned to look at Race’s bed. It was empty, and the sheets were all over the floor.

“Race?” Jack looked around the room but saw no sign of his roommate.

The dog barked again.

“Quiet, boy. If Snyder finds you here Race an’ me are going to be in deep shit.”

The dog immediately went quiet.

Jack looked at it, noticing for the first time that it was wearing one of Race’s t-shirts. He laughed. “This is going pretty far for a joke, even for Racer.”

The dog head butted him.

Jack smiled and went to scratch between the dog’s ears.

The dog leaned into his hand for a moment, then froze. It backed away with a low growl.

“Whoa, easy there boy.” Jack’s eyes were drawn to the claws that woke him up. The paws looked too big for the dog’s body. “You ain’t even full-grown, is you? You’re going to be a monster of a dog when you’re grown.”

The dog whimpered a bit, lying down with its paws on its head.

“You’re one weird mutt. Where did Race even find you?”

The dog looked up at him again. It got up and walked over towards the shredded sheets hanging off of Race’s bed. It sniffed around then pulled some fabric out and carried it over to Jack, dropping it in front of him.

“What’s this?” Jack picked it up and discovered it to be pajama bottoms, Race’s pajama bottoms, Race’s partially shredded pajama bottoms. “Why’d you claw these up. Wait, are you telling me Racer is out there somewhere naked.” Jack dropped the pajamas. “And the fucker didn’t even invite me.”

The dog sighed and stared at Jack.

“What?”

The dog continued to stare.

“I got somethin’ on my face?” Jack brushed his hands over his face.

The dog huffed and moved over to look out the window.

Jack followed, still wondering where Race went, and why he’d smuggled a dog into their room. He hoped Race wasn’t planning on trying to keep it. Hiding a chihuahua in the home would be almost impossible, it had been tried a few times. There was no way they could hide this monster.

The dog gave a quiet bark, drawing Jack’s attention back to the window. It was bright out for the middle of the night. He bent down and looked up towards the sky, taking in the full moon shining down on the street outside.

“What?”

The dog barked again and pointed up with its nose.

“Yeah, it’s the moon.”

The dog made a quiet sound that Jack couldn’t interpret and then turned around. It attempted to jump onto Jack’s bed, taking several tries and scratching up the thin sheets before finally making it up.

“See, now you’re making sense. We just go to bed, and wait for Race to give up on whatever he’s trying.” Jack jumped back into the bed and wrestled with the dog over the covers until he fell asleep.

Jack drifted awake, something warm pressed to his side. How the hell was he supposed to explain Race’s dog? He blinked his eyes open and turned to focus on the dog cuddled next to him. Instead, he found Race. Instead, he found Race not wearing any pants.

“What the fuck?” Jack shoved hard, pushing Race to the floor.

“Shit!” Came from the floor next to his bed.

“What the fuck, Race?”

Race jumped up, looking at his hands, and exposing himself. “I’m me again!”

Jack turned his head and closed his eyes. “Race, no one wants to see that.”

“I’m me!”

Jack threw his pillow in the direction of Race’s voice.

“Oh shut up. You were worried I went streaking without you last night.”

“How’d you know that?”

“How’d’ya think, idiot.”

“I’m not an idiot. You’re an idiot. How’d an idiot like you get that dog in here anyhow?”

“Okay, first, that was clearly a wolf, not a dog. Two, I’m literally still in the same shirt and left hair all over your bed. That was me, you idiot.”

Jack rolled over and looked at Race, thankful that he was putting his clawed up pajama bottoms back on. He was wearing the same shirt the dog had been in the night before, and Jack really couldn’t think of any way he could have gotten a dog into the room, or out of his bed, without waking him up. Still, that’s what had to have happened.

“So what, you tellin’ me you’re some sorta werewolf now?” Jack laughed. “Haha, very funny.”

“Would I lie to you?”

“In a heartbeat.”

Race nodded, conceding the point. “Alright, but I’m not.”

“Sure. You’re a werewolf.”

“Fine, I’ll proves it to ya tonight.”

“Full moon was last night, dumbass.”

“Full moon lasts for three nights, everyone knows that.”

“Where you pulling that from? I guarantee you not everyone knows that.”

“From the fucking  _ Monster Manual _ , and I’ll just fucking show you tonight.”

Jack got up and headed towards the bathroom. “Just make sure you feed that poor dog, wherever you got him stashed. I liked rooming with him better than you.”

Race scoffed and threw Jack’s pillow at the back of his head.

School was brutal that day, and not just because it was middle school, and always brutal. Jack was exhausted from Race’s late-night prank, and the scabs on his leg were itching. Where the hell did he hide the dog? There was nowhere to hide a dog of that size, Jack had tried to keep a kitten he found once, it was three days before it was found and taken to the shelter. Maybe he was telling the truth? No, he wasn’t some little kid who believed in monsters that went bump in the night. People were more than monstrous enough all on their own.

Jack spent the afternoon working on his homework. Race spent it staring out the window of their room. Jack had to hand it to him, he was working to sell the joke.

“Hey, can your freaky big brain help me with this math problem?”

“Not right now.”

“Oh right, you’re waiting to turn into a wolf, I forgot.”

Race flipped him off, looking out at the darkening street. He took his shirt off.

Jack rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to his homework. He was still staring at his algebra homework when a strange popping sound disturbed him.

“Jack?”

Jack turned to look at his roommate and froze.

Blond fur was spreading down Race’s back. His bones twisted, moving beneath the skin with a cacophony of sickening pops. Race looked Jack in the eye and whispered, “Help me?” His teeth sharpened as he spoke.

Jack just stared. He couldn’t think of anything he could do to help Race.

Race groaned and fell forward onto hands that were changing into paws while Jack watched. There was terror in Race’s eyes. His skull started twisting, growing longer, his mouth filling with teeth.

Jack just stared. He had no idea how Race wasn’t screaming in pain. It sounded like every bone in his body was breaking. By the time Jack could even blink again, it was over. In what felt like a lifetime, but couldn't have even been a minute, the dog, no wolf, from the night before had replaced Race, and was shaking its way out of his pants and underwear.

“Shit.”

The wolf looked confused but turned to look at Jack when he spoke.

“If this is a joke, Racer, you got me good.”

The wolf gave him a flat look before turning and trying to jump onto Race’s bed. It took some clawing, but he managed. The wolf lay down on the bed, glanced at Jack, then turned to look away.

“Well, at least you don’t seem bloodthirsty?”

The wolf gave a low growl for a moment but otherwise continued to ignore Jack.


	2. Arrival

David Jacobs looked up at the building before him and yawned. Then he looked from the building down to the crowd of his fellow new students already outside. This was where he’d be living for the next few months, Founders Hall. He glanced down at the large box in his hands and heard his father’s footsteps pause behind him.

“Are you still sure about this, David?” Mayer asked. “It’s not too late to go home.”

“And drive 7 hours back to Buffalo?”

Mayer chuckled, setting the two suitcases he was carrying down. “Can’t blame me for worrying.”

“You didn’t worry this much about sending Sarah off to Arizona.”

“That’s different, we have  _ family  _ in Arizona.”

David sighed and adjusted his grip on the box in his arms. “Come on, I need to get checked in.”

The elevator ride up seemed to take forever. It didn’t hold that many people, but David swore it must have stopped on each of the 12 floors below. He and his father exited, David thinking of how his father’s eyebrow had arched when he found out David’s dorm was on the 13th floor. At least his room was next to the elevator.

David crouched to set down the box he’d held all the way up in the elevator. He pulled the loose key from his pocket, he’d have to add it to his keyring soon so he didn’t lose it, and slipped it into the lock. It turned easily enough, and he opened the door, motioning for his father to go in before him.

Mayer walked into the room still carrying the two suitcases. David picked up his box and followed. They walked past the bathroom down the short hallway, or at least what the dorm’s website called a hallway, to the room he’d be sharing for the next year. The door was already open and his future roommate was taping a poster above one of the beds.

David’s first impression of his roommate could be summed up in one word— short. He tried to push the uncharitable thought down, but it was the first thing that sprang to mind.

Mayer set the suitcases down with a thud, and the dark-haired boy turned his head to look at them. He glanced from Mayer to David and nodded once, then turned his attention back to the poster. Mayer arched his eyebrow again at the silent boy and turned to look at David.

David rolled his eyes and moved towards the other bed. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected from his roommate, but that wasn’t it. They’d already emailed, of course, planned out who would bring what, and he noticed the small refrigerator that Sean had agreed to bring already in the corner of the room. Even in the emails, Sean hadn’t been the most talkative person, but it seemed he was even quieter in person. David set his box down next to the bed and turned to face his father.

“Well, here we are,” David said.

Mayer nodded, his eyes darting to the boy on the other bed who was now unpacking some clothes. “Here we are.” He sighed. “David, remember we’re only a phone call away if you need anything. Anything at all.”

David resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I know, Dad.” He folded his father into a hug, wondering when exactly he got taller than his father.

Mayer opened his mouth, but then glanced at the other boy in the room and closed it. He nodded to David and turned. He left without another word.

“I hope you remembered the microwave.”

David snorted. “No ‘Hi, David, nice to meet you’? Just ‘I hope you remembered the microwave’?” He turned to see Sean laying across his bare mattress, looking at him.

“Seriously? We emailed.”

David gave his roommate a flat look.

“Fine, jeez.” Sean stood up and held out his hand. “Hi, David, nice to meetcha.”

David shook his hand. “Hi, Sean, nice to meet you.”

Sean sat back down on his bed. “I hope you remembered the microwave.”

David laughed and walked over to the box he’d left near his bed. He opened it and moved some junk around before pulling out his mom’s old microwave and turning to show it to Sean. “Yes, I remembered the microwave.”

“Good.” Sean turned and pulled some sheets out of the box by his bed.

David set the microwave down next to the small refrigerator and dragged his two suitcases over towards his bed.

“How old are those? I never seen a suitcase without wheels. Outside of an old movie I mean.”

David heaved one up onto his mattress and shrugged. “My parents are… frugal.”

Sean snorted and went back to making his bed.

David set about unpacking his things, shoving the suitcases under his bed when they were empty. He put his clothes on the side of the closet Sean hadn’t already claimed and had just turned his attention to finding sheets for his bed when he heard a clatter in the entry hall. 

“Stop shoving you dickhead. You made me drop my shit.” Came a voice from the hall.

“No,” Sean whispered from his bed. David barely heard him but turned to look at his roommate.

“I wouldn’t have to shove if you’d move faster. I wanted to get here before our suitemates, but now we’re late.” Said a different voice from the entry.

“No, no, no, NO.” Sean’s whispers growing from a whisper to a shout as he spoke. He jumped up from the bed and rushed to the door as David watched. Sean flung the door open and silence filled the room.

David dropped the sheets on his bed and moved over to look through the door, having no trouble seeing the two standing in the entry hall over Sean’s head.

A curly-haired blond, who David idly noted had half a foot on Sean, was staring at the shorter boy, mouth hanging open. Behind the blond stood a taller boy with brown hair and tan skin, wearing a gray newsboy cap. He was also trying desperately not to laugh.

“No,” Sean said.

The blond didn’t even react, still staring at Sean.

The other boy managed to swallow his laughter before speaking. “Well, well, well, Spot. What are the odds?”

“No. I am not living with you two.” Sean said.

“Well, I think the dorm is full, so unless you’re going to move onto the street… you’re going to be living with us two.” He paused to look at the blond in front of him and kicked him lightly in the leg. “Earth to Race.”

The blond, Race, David assumed, and wondered about the obvious nickname, shook his head, and looked at Sean. “Spot. You live here?”

Sean growled and looked over his shoulder. “Come on, Dave, we’re going food shopping.”

David blinked, but nodded and moved to grab his keys and wallet before following his roommate out the door. He nodded to the two boys Sean had pushed his way past, pausing for a moment when he caught sight of the hat-wearer’s green eyes. “Pleasure to meet you.” David hurried to catch up with his fleeing roommate.

“I suppose ya want to know what that was about,” Sean said after they’d walked to the nearest supermarket in silence.

David nodded. Curious, but unable to think of a polite way to ask.

“We know each other.”

David snorted and looked at Sean. “I’d gathered that much, thanks.” 

Sean rolled his eyes. He picked up a loaf of bread off the shelf and tossed it into the basket David was carrying. “Jack and I spent some time in the same group homes.”

Unsure of how to respond to that revelation, David chose instead to ask, “Which one was Jack?”

Sean blinked. “Right. Ya wouldn’t know. The idiot in the hat.”

David tried and failed not to think about how green Jack’s eyes had been. “And the other one’s name is Race?” David picked up a jar of peanut butter and added it to the basket.

“Anthony, but everyone who knows him calls him Racetrack.”

“Why?”

“I have no idea,” Sean added some jelly to the basket, and they turned onto another aisle.

“And… Spot?” David tried and failed to hide his grin.

“Ya know, I was really hoping to get away from that nickname.”

“I promise not to use it.”

Sean sighed and scrubbed at his face in front of the cereal. “When we was kids I had a lot of freckles.” He picked up a box of Lucky Charms from the shelf and dropped it into David’s basket. “Ya make one leprechaun joke, and I’ll make ya room with Jack and Race.”


	3. Precooked

“So, how about that?” Jack smirked, turning his attention back to Race from the door the other two boys had left through.

“How the hell did you get us a room with your brother?” Race turned to look Jack in the eye.

“Hey now. I didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“Sure.” Race bent down to pick up the box of clothes he’d dropped. “Be a sweetheart and get the door for me.”

“I didn’t. I swear I didn’t.” Jack opened the door to the room he and Race would be sharing, then picked up his box.

Race moved into the room, dropping his box near one of the beds and sprawling out on it. “Why did move-in have to be today?”

Jack set his box down near the other bed. He turned and headed back to the hall to grab the other boxes. There were too many to lift so he stacked them up and slid the stack along the floor into the entryway and then into the room. The tiled floor looked like it would be cold, but it sure made moving the boxes easier.

Race was lying on his bed, a pillow held over his face.

Jack rolled his eyes. “It’s the middle of the day, Racer.”

Race lifted the pillow enough to glare at his roommate. “You know how I get ‘round the full moon. My nose is killing me. It’s like they washed the entire building in Axe body spray.” Race allowed the pillow to fall back on his face.

“So what do you think of our other roommate?”

“The one we saw for all of three seconds?” Came Race’s muffled reply.

Jack rubbed at the back of his neck. “Yeah.”

“He looked tall, ‘course, next to Spot, everyone looks tall.”

“That’s it?” Jack was already thinking of a dozen different things he could say about the other boy.

“Jack, I’m having a crisis here. Could we ignore your libido until after the full moon?”

Jack left Race alone after that and started sorting out their possessions. He unpacked the mini-fridge/microwave they’d bought together and plugged it in. He threw his clothes into the closet, readied his bed, and then collapsed on top of it. Jack glanced over at Race, who was still hiding under his pillow. A sound that might’ve been a snore came from under it.

Jack sat up and looked over at the refrigerator. They’d need to go get some food soon, but he decided to let Race sleep for a while. The poor guy never got much sleep around the full moon. After setting the alarm on his phone, Jack lay back down and shut his eyes.

The alarm on Jack's phone went off. He rolled over to look at it before dismissing it. Jack sat up and stretched, then tossed his pillow across the dorm room and into Race.

“Ouch, watch it.” Race’s voice came from beneath two pillows.

“Time to get up.”

“I don’t wanna.”

“Come on, Racer. We got,” Jack checked his phone, “two and a half hours before moonrise. We need to get our food shopping done.”

“Just do it without me.”

“Nuh-uh, we both know how that goes. I ask what you want me to get you. You say ‘meat’. So I get that for you, and then once the moon is over you get sick of it. You’re coming with me and picking your own damn ‘meat’.”

“Fine, but I hate you.” Race pulled the pillow off his face and sat up.

“Please, no one hates me.”

“Tell that to Spot.”

“He loves me. He just didn’t want to get mushy in front of his sexy new roommate.”

Race scrunched his nose while putting on socks. “He smells weird.”

“That’s just the short you’re smelling.”

“Not Spot, the roommate.”

“So you don’t like his deodorant, what else is new?”

“It’s not my fault I have a sensitive nose.”

“Says the smoker.”

“You know that’s why I only smoke cigars. I can smell the crap they add to the cigarettes.”

“Right, ‘cause I’m sure they don’t add all the same shit to your precious Coronas.”

Race stood up and grabbed his wallet. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

They walked a few blocks to the grocery store. Jack didn’t pick the closest one, hoping to avoid antagonizing his brother more than he was already bound to. He snorted to himself as they walked into the store.

“What’s so funny?”

“Just thinking how funny it is that they put us in with poor Spot.” Jack grabbed a cart and pushed it down an aisle at random.

“You mean how lucky it is.” Race grabbed a box of cherry pop tarts and threw it into the cart.

“Please tell me you don’t still have a crush on my brother.”

“Fine, I won’t tell you.”

“You know you ain’t going to date him.”

“I know that. But it’s nice to be able to look.”

Jack cuffed the back of Race’s head, then grabbed a loaf of bread from the shelf.

“What was that for?”

“You just going to never date?”

“That’s the plan. Unless you happen to know where I can find a cute, gay,” Race paused and looked around, dropping his voice before continuing, “werewolf.”

“If someone loves you, they won’t care about you shedding three nights a month. I don’t even like you and I never told no one.”

“Bitch, you love me.”

Jack grabbed a box of Lucky Charms off the shelf. “Well here, why don’t you date the leprechaun. He and Spot are basically the same.”

Race cuffed jack on the back of the head. “You know he hates that joke. And Lucky’s hair is red, not black.” Race jumped on the back of the cart and let his momentum carry the cart toward the refrigerated section. “Finally, meat.”

“Yeah, yeah. Stock up wolf-boy.”

“Bite me.” Race tossed three packs of hot dogs over his shoulder into the cart.

“I do not understand how you stay so skinny.”

“It’s my metabolism.”

Spot and his roommate were still out when Jack and Race made it back.

“I hope he didn’t go complain to Medda. Enough of youse is accusing me of having something to do with this already.”

“I still don’t believe you didn’t.” Race shoved their groceries into the small refrigerator, except for one pack of hot dogs. He ripped them open and started eating one.

“That’s disgusting.”

“Oh please, they’s precooked. See.” Race opened his mouth wide, giving Jack a view of a chewed hot dog. “‘Sides, I don’t think werewolves can get food poisoning.”

“I take it back,  _ that  _ was disgusting.” Jack’s phone chimed with an alarm, he pulled it out and dismissed it. “Ten minutes to moonrise. Anything else you want to do while you still got thumbs?”

“Yeah, this.” Race flipped Jack off and crammed another hot dog into his mouth.

Jack laughed. “You going to be okay tonight? Changing your first night in a new place and all?”

“It’s real shitty that move-in and the full moon lined up this year, but I’ll live.”

Jack looked Race in the eye, trying to gauge if he was telling the truth or putting on a front. It was somewhere in between he thought. “You want me to stay here with you?”

“No, Dad, just lock the door so no one walks in on me and calls animal control, again.”

“Will do. I don’t feel like chasing after the dog catcher again.”

Jack left, locking the bedroom door behind him. He wandered campus for a while, finding the buildings for all of his classes, then headed to a nearby movie theatre to kill some time. He caught a movie and then decided to head back to the dorm. He passed by a deli on the way and was considering getting something to eat when he noticed Spot and his handsome roommate sitting inside. Well wasn’t that just a target too tempting to resist?


	4. Never Call Me That Again

David and Sean returned to the dorm from their shopping trip, Jack and Race were nowhere to be found. David continued into their room and put the gallon of milk they’d purchased in the small refrigerator.

Sean fell onto his bed, burying his face in his pillow before screaming into it. David ignored his roommate’s dramatics and set about putting the sheets on the single mattress that the university qualified as a bed.

“Hey, if I kill them, will ya help me hide the bodies?”

David hummed as he thought it over. “I don’t think we’re that close yet. Hiding bodies is pretty serious friend territory.”

Sean rolled over and looked at him. “Just wait until ya get to know them.”

David chuckled to himself. “They can’t be that bad.” He finished putting on his sheets and put his second, and only other set of sheets, on the shelf at the top of the closet. He pulled out his phone and checked the time. “Well, I’m going to head out and explore the city.”

“Alone?”

“Yeah?”

“Ya ever been to New York before, Dave?”

“Nope,” David said, popping the p.

“And ya going to go out there alone?”

“I’ll be fine, Sean.”

“No, ya won’t. I’m coming with ya.” Sean sat up and reached for his phone.

David’s eyes widened a little. He tried to think of a way to get his roommate to leave him alone. Not a problem he’d expected to have when they first met that morning, but it seemed food shopping counted as bonding time for Sean.

“No really. I’ll be fine.”

“Like hell ya will. You look like you’d lose a fight to an alleycat. You’re my roommate, and I protect what’s mine.”

David resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He could see there was no way out of this, at least not if he wanted to be able to live with Sean for the rest of the year.

David gave up trying to convince Sean that he could take care of himself after about 20 minutes and three blocks. Sean may have been short, but he was both built like, and as stubborn as, a brick wall. They made their way to Times Square as the sun was setting. David was surprised by the number of people. He knew how densely populated New York City was, but there was a difference between knowing a fact and seeing it for yourself. He took his time stopping in front of every building.

“You’re the most touristy person I ever seen, ya know that?”

“You’re the one who insisted on being my bodyguard.” David didn’t want to antagonize his roommate, but it was hard to look for any signs of the locals with him around.

“And having seen ya out in the city, I stand by that decision.”

“You just don’t want to be trapped with Jack and Race.”

Sean shrugged, not even trying to deny it.

“They really can’t be that bad.”

“You have no idea.”

“Enlighten me then.”

Sean shrugged but didn’t volunteer anything.

David took the opportunity to wander a bit further down the street, sniffing at the air as he went.

“Allergies?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“You hungry? We should grab something to eat and head back to the dorm. It’s getting late.”

David resisted the urge to sigh. “Yeah, sure.”

“Disappointed? New York not all ya thought it’d be?”

David turned to face Sean, taking the time as he did to take in his surroundings. He was still having trouble even conceiving of the number of people in the crowds around him. “No, it’s great. Just… my allergies are acting up.” He knew it wasn’t the best finish, but he couldn’t exactly explain what he was looking for, could he?

Sean gave him a look, communicating without words that he knew David was full of bullshit and was choosing not to call him on it.

David shrugged. “So, you’re the local boy, where’s good for food?”

“We’re a bit out of my normal turf here. I’m from Brooklyn, not Manhattan.”

“Well, I’m from Buffalo, so you still beat me by a few hundred miles.”

Sean laughed and turned. “Come on. I heard of a 24-hour deli not far from campus.”

“You have 24-hour delis?”

“They don’t call it the city that never sleeps for nothing.”

It was half-an-hour of walking before the pair were back near campus. Then 10 more minutes of wandering while Sean searched on his phone as David walked beside him before they found the deli. It was named Jacobi’s and was larger than David expected, less of a deli than a restaurant with a deli counter, although he supposed that would be normal in the largest city in the country. It wasn’t full but was busier than he’d expected it to be at 10 p.m. on a Sunday. Guessing, based on the age of the other customers, he and Sean weren’t the only students to have this idea. They got a table and ordered some sandwiches.

“So, ya heard my sob story, what about you?”

“Sob story?”

“I don’t just go around telling anyone I was in the foster system.”

David nodded. “Alright. Well, I’m from Phoenix originally, but we moved to Buffalo when I was 15. I have a twin sister and a little brother.”

“Who was that with you when you moved in, looked like your older brother?”

“That was my dad.”

“Bullshit.”

“No, really.” David held up his hands.

“There’s no fucking way that guy was old enough. Did he have you when he was 10?”

David snorted. “He’s older than he looks.”

“Your family have a hidden spring somewhere like in that musical?”

“No, just good genes.” David took a small bite of his sandwich and chewed it. “What about you? Any siblings?”

“Biologically? I have no idea.” Sean took a large bite of his sandwich. “Legally? Jack, Charlie, and Smalls.”

David had to struggle not to spit out his sandwich, and had a small coughing fit. He had to force the bit of food stuck in his throat to go down with a swallow of root beer before he could speak again. “Jack. Our roommate who you hate, Jack? You said you knew him from a group home?”

“I said that’s where I met him.” Sean took a long drink from his soda. “We was in a few group homes together before he got adopted. Same lady decided to foster me a few months later, and she wound up adopting me a year after that. And I never said I hate him. I said he’s annoying and I don’t want to live with him. I moved into the dorms to room with new people, not jackasses I already know.”

David’s eyes were still watering as he took a long drink of his root beer. “And Charlie?”

“He’s a year younger than us. Which is too bad, I'd way rather live with him than Jack and Race.”

“You never did explain how you know Race.”

“Also the group homes, he’s been my idiot brother’s idiot best friend since before I knew either of them. At least Medda didn’t decide to adopt him too, I would have hung myself.”

“So he stayed in the system?”

“He found a foster dad that kept him, he even lives near Medda’s house. Personally I think Denton needs his head examined, but they seem happy enough. He’s actually the same age as Charlie, but skipped a grade somewhere in there.”

“I thought you said he was an idiot.”

“Just because he’s freaky smart doesn’t mean he isn’t also an idiot. Just wait, you’ll see.”

“Makes me kinda feel like the odd-man-out in the dorm. With you three knowing each other already.”

“Hey, don’t—” Sean cut off, his eyes focused behind David with a look of resigned horror.

David heard the door open and then feet approaching the table.

“Well, well, well. Look who it is. I thought maybe you ran home to complain to Ma about me.” Jack said, stepping into David’s field of view and dragging a chair over to their table, which he sat on backward.

David glanced at Sean, mildly concerned that his roommate might attempt homicide in Jacobi’s. But his eyes kept darting back to the boy who’d joined them. Now that he had time to look, Jack’s eyes were somehow even greener.

“So where’s your shadow?” Sean asked.

“Racer?” Jack’s eyes darted to the side. “He’s got a headache.”

Sean grumbled and took another bite of his sandwich.

Jack turned his attention to David. “Well, hello again. The name’s Jack Kelly.” He held his hand out for a shake.

David took it, trying not to stare at the boy’s green eyes. “Is that what it says on your rap sheet?”

“A smart guy. I admire smart guys.” Jack said, releasing his hand and leaning a bit closer. “Handsome. Smart. Independent.”

“Do you mind not hitting on my roommate?” Sean said, throwing a pickle at his brother.

Jack dodged the pickle and focused back on David. “Don’t think I caught your name yet?”

“David.” David managed to keep himself from smiling.

“Just David?” Jack leaned in closer.

“David Jacobs.” He wasn’t quite able to keep the smile from his eyes.

“See, now was that so hard?”

“What did I just say? This is why I was keeping him away from you.” Sean glared at Jack.

“Come on Spotty. Davey here is a big boy, he can chase me off on his own.” Jack turned to David and shot him a wink.

“Davey?” David asked, turning his attention back to Sean in a vain attempt to hide the blush on his cheeks.

The waitress came by to refill their drinks and took Jack’s order.

“I still wanna know how you got put in the same room as me.” Sean said.

Jack held up his hands. “Wasn’t me. I swear on my father’s grave.”

Sean snorted. “Last I checked he was alive.”

“Fine, I swear on his prison sentence.”

David raised an eyebrow at that but didn’t know either of his companions well enough to broach that topic. He took a bite of his sandwich.

“You expect me to believe you had nothing to do with it?” Sean took a long drink from his soda while staring Jack down.

“Well seeing as I did have nothing to do with it, yeah, I do.”

Sean didn’t respond.

David finished his sandwich. He hoped Jack was only playing, he really couldn’t afford to get in a relationship, not with a human. Jack’s eyes though. David resisted the urge to take another look at them, or at any part of Jack for that matter. He couldn’t deny the boy was attractive, but he couldn’t let there be anything there.

It was almost midnight when the three made their way back to Founders Hall. The full moon hanging in the sky above them. David could feel the pressure at the base of his spine begging for release. He kept it contained with ease brought by long practice but found himself missing running through the forest with his family in the moonlight. At least the elevators weren’t busy and they made it back to the thirteenth floor without any other stops.

Sean unlocked the door and went straight to their bedroom. Jack and David followed him in but lingered in the entry.

“Well, I guess this is goodbye.” Jack turned to face David.

David shook his head, the man was infuriating. “You’re not getting a good night kiss.”

“You wound me,” Jack smirked. “At least tell me I’ll see you again.”

“I’m starting to understand why Sean wants you dead.”

Jack scoffed and opened the door at his back.

A smell wafted out of the dorm room. David froze.  _ Wolf. _

David pushed his way past Jack without even thinking, ignoring his protest, acting only on instinct to protect. He spun around in the center of the room, letting his nose lead him. The wolf was lying on top of one of the beds, asleep. David stopped himself before he jumped on it. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting when he smelled a fully transformed oboroten, but this wasn’t it.

“Look, I can explain.” Jack rushed between David and the bed, his hands held out like a beggar. “I was… afraid my dog was going to miss me something terrible. So I brought him by, just for a few nights. And you really shouldn’t just go barging into other people’s rooms you know?”

Dave blinked. Jack wasn’t surprised to find a wolf asleep on his roommate’s bed. He focused on the color of the wolf, a golden hue very similar to a shock of hair he saw over Sean’s head earlier that day. “Then where’s your roommate?” 

“Racer? Uh, he was feeling homesick, went to spend the night at Denton’s.”

David realized Jack  _ knew _ . This was a nightmare.

Disturbed by their voices, the wolf turned a bleary-eyed look toward them and froze when it caught sight of David.

David grappled for what to do. He knew what he was supposed to do, but his conscience rebelled. He needed to limit the disaster and prevent anyone else from finding out. “Jack, close the door. We don’t need Sean walking in.” Then he’d have to figure out what the fuck was going on in this city.

“Yeah, right. Good idea.” Jack looked behind him at the wolf on the bed and shuffled over towards the door, facing David the whole time. “He’d rat me out to the RA for having brought my dog fo’ sure.”

David’s eyes never left those of the blue-eyed wolf. “We all know this isn’t your dog, Jack.”

“What? I mean… of course he is.” Jack moved back between David and the wolf. “Why else would a dog be in my dorm room.”

David could smell Jack sweating, could hear his heart speeding up. “Then what’s his name?”

“Uh… Spot. His name is Spot.”

“Your dog has the same name as your brother?”

“Yeah. He came with it. Didn’t you, Spot?” 

David chose to ignore the obvious lie and maintained his focus on the wolf. “Change back, we need to talk.”

The wolf blinked.

“He’s a dog. Just an ordinary—”

“Cut the crap, Jack.” David’s eyes stayed fixed on the wolf, but he was aware of Jack sliding closer to him.

“Okay, look. I don’t know what you think is going on here. But I can explain.”

“What I think? I think that’s a wolf on that bed. I think that wolf is your roommate. I think you know exactly what he is and are trying to protect him with increasingly ridiculous lies.”

“Shit.” It was almost a sigh.

“Look, Race, change back and we can talk about this. I won’t get the packs involved.”

The wolf quirked his head to the side, confusion evident in his body language.

“The silent act isn’t going to do you any good. I can force you back, but neither of us is going to enjoy that.” David allowed his left hand to drift to the lump in his vest pocket, not looking forward to having to touch the silver whistle inside.

“Look, you’re right.” Jack moved between David and Race. “But I don’t know what you’re talking about. He can’t change back. Not until morning.”

David blinked at that.

Jack took the opportunity and tackled David, knocking him to the floor. Jack landed on top of him and pinned him down. He straddled David and held his wrists down with his hands.

The wolf barked in alarm.

“Quiet.” David and Jack said in unison, then turned to glare at each other.

“So what, precisely, is your plan from here?” David asked, preparing to force Jack off of him.

Jack’s eyes widened, and David knew he didn’t have a plan.

“Going to hold me here until sunrise? Feed me to your pet wolf?”

“Well, I didn’t exactly plan out what to do after I had you horizontal.”

David fought down a blush. Now was not the time. Did Jack ever stop flirting? Could he even stop flirting or was it pathological? David chose to glare into the other boy’s eyes.

“Okay. Okay.” Jack was talking more to himself than David. “So, you know about werewolves.” Jack’s eyes glanced in the direction of Race’s bed.

“Oborotni,” David said.

Jack’s eyes focused back on David. “What?”

“The proper word is oborotni.”  _ Shut up, David _ . Away from home for less than a full day and already spilling secrets. Maybe his dad had been right about not letting David go to school here. Strike that, his dad  _ was  _ right.

“Oh, the proper word huh?” Jack smirked down at him.

“I take it back, werewolf is fine.”

“So you know a lot about this. Are you an oborotni?”

David grimaced. This night was not going well.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Jack, don’t. You’re not supposed to know about any of this. You’re not allowed to know.”

“Oh, I’m not  _ allowed _ ? Who’s going to stop me, you?” Jack smirked at him.

David reached for the familiar itch where it pooled at the base of his spine and drew it into his arms and legs. The muscles twitched and shifted. Pops echoed from his legs as their bone structure started to change.

Jack’s eyes widened at the sound.

Race whimpered.

David glanced back at Jack’s bed, judged the distance, and threw Jack off of him and into it. David stood up, holding the itch where it was. It wanted to keep going, to complete the change, to run beneath the moon and hunt, but that wouldn’t help anything right now. “If I need to.”

Jack tried to get out of his bed but got tangled in the sheets.

David pushed the itch back. His bones cracking back into a normal shape as he forced it into the pool at the base of his spine. He turned his attention back to Race. “I’m sorry. I’ll leave the two of you alone, but we need to talk in the morning.”

The wolf was watching him, curiosity, and fear warring in his eyes. He nodded.

David turned and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him. He walked into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. What was he going to tell his parents? Nothing, he couldn’t tell them anything. They’d report it to the packs, and then Race would be killed for letting a human know about them and Jack would be killed or bitten. The laws were harsh and absolute. Fuck.

David dried his face and went to his room.

Sean was lying on his bed, with his earbuds in. He pulled one out when David walked in. “Please tell me you weren’t just making out with my little brother?”

David laughed at that, hoping it didn’t sound hysterical. “Definitely not.”

“Good, it’s bad enough I can’t even escape him in my dorm.” Sean put the earbud back in.

David gathered his pajamas and went back to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

“Ambush!”

David’s eyes shot open as a weight suddenly fell onto his chest. He turned with a well-rehearsed movement and dumped his attacker onto the floor next to the bed while sitting up. He blinked. That hadn’t been Les. He looked down at the floor and saw Race lying there in a t-shirt and pajama pants. A pillow came flying from Sean’s direction and hit Race in the back of the head.

“Rude.” Race said, rubbing where the pillow had hit him.

Sean rolled over in the early morning light coming from the window, earbuds still in place.

David sighed, he’d been hoping last night had been a bad dream conjured by his fears of moving to the big city alone. David fell back onto the bed with a groan.

“I’m ready for my first lesson, Senpai.” Race said, looking at David from the floor.

“First lesson, never call me that again. I mean ever.”

“Well, I can see why they put you two grumps in a room together.”

“Go shower, you smell like a wet dog.”

“Also rude.” Race got up and left. “I’ll be back in half-an-hour.”

David groaned again.

“I told you.” Sean rolled back over to face him. “Please tell me you didn’t make out with Racer either?”

David glared over at Sean. “Is everyone in this dorm gay?”

“Jack’s bi. And I don’t actually know about you.”

Huh, David hadn’t expected Sean to be gay. “Gay.”

“So, three and a half out of the four of us are gay.”

“That seems improbable.”

“Just blame Jack, I do.” Sean shifted, turning his back and drifting back into sleep.

David snorted and thought about going back to sleep, it couldn’t be much after 6. He sighed and sat up. He was the one who forced his way into Race’s room last night. And if Race really didn’t know how to control the change, or even not to go around changing in front of regular humans… but how could he not know? David glanced over at Sean again, remembering what he’d been told about Race the day before. Right, he was an orphan. Orphaned before the first change by the sound of it. Shit. He didn’t think he was responsible enough to be dealing with an orphaned werewolf. But what choice did he have? He could follow protocol which would mean contacting the packs, letting Race be executed, for crimes he couldn’t even know about, watch Jack be killed, and probably Sean too so they could tidy up the loose ends. And then he’d have to disappear, which definitely meant no college. Or he could try to teach Race, swear Jack to silence, risk being executed himself for not reporting it, and maybe manage a halfway normal college experience.

David grabbed some clothes and headed for the bathroom. He noticed that Race was not taking his advice, which was probably for the best because he needed a shower to wake up.


	5. Only Three Things

“Did you down a gallon of espresso or something?” Race was bouncing on his bed. Jack was getting a headache just watching him.

“I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Jack’s eyes widened and darted to the Keurig Race’s dad had gotten them, there were a lot of empty little plastic cups next to it. He rubbed at his forehead. “Your heart’s going to explode.”

“I think it already did.” Race fidgeted some more.

There was a knock on their bedroom door. Race jumped.

“Who is it?” Jack called out.

The door opened and Davey stood there, giving Jack a flat look.

“Oh sure, now you knock,” Jack smirked at the taller boy.

Davey walked into the room, pointed at Jack, and then at the open doorway. “Out.”

Jack shook his head. “No way.”

“Jack—” Race started to say.

“No, Racer, he doesn’t get to break in here and threaten you and then exile me from my own room. I been here for you since the beginning, I ain’t backing out now.”

Davey exhaled slowly, wiping his face with his hand. “Fine, I’m already so very fucked, why not.” He turned, closed the door behind him, and locked it. “Do you mind if I sit down?”

Jack got up, pulled the chair from his desk out, and gestured to it.

Davey sat down. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“What am I?” Race asked.

Davey’s eyes darted to Jack, but he seemed to sense that Jack wouldn’t back down about this. “We call ourselves oborotni. Um, that’s plural. Oboroten is singular.”

“What language is that? Why not just werewolves?”

“Proto-Slavic. The first of our kind came from what’s now Russia. And, I don’t really know. Werewolf is the name the humans give us. It’s not wrong, it’s just not us.”

“If you’re an oboroten, why weren’t you a wolf last night?”

“My parents taught me how to control it, like theirs taught them.” Davey held up his left hand. He closed his eyes and Jack watched his hand started to change. Nails twisting into claws, fingers shrinking, hair thickening. Davey stopped after a moment and shook his hand out like it had fallen asleep.

Race was just staring at Davey.

“You’ve really never met another one of us before?”

Race shook his head. “I mean, not that I know of. I assumed one of my parents must’ve been since it’s not like I’ve ever been bitten. Well, not by a wolf, and not before… you know.”

Jack snorted.

“Did you bite anyone? Hard enough to break the skin?” Davey’s eyes were wide.

“Wait, are youse infectious even when you’re human?” Jack asked.

“Less, but yes. A bite while transformed is guaranteed, a bite while human isn’t always.”

Jack turned his eyes to Race, he knew his best friend hadn’t been exactly what you’d call chaste.

“Not that I can think of. I mean, I’ve definitely given a few guys hickeys.”

“I don’t suppose you have a list?”

“Is it really that serious?” Jack asked.

Davey looked at him. “Yes. You don’t have any idea how seriously we take our secrecy. If the packs knew I was mentioning any of this to you they’d kill us both without a second thought.”

Jack swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. The look in Davey’s eyes was one no college kid should ever have. “You seen a lot of that?”

“All punishments are carried out in public.”

“But you’re a kid, like us.”

Davey shrugged. “Better to teach us the consequences young.”

“So if there’s some big secret werewolf society, how come I grew up alone?” Race demanded.

Jack stopped himself from objecting. Racer hadn’t been alone. Jack had been there for him, raiding every library he could get to, to read books on werewolves. But he knew what Racer meant. Family. Jack still sometimes missed it too. At least the idea of it. He had Medda now, and she was better than his birth parents had ever been, even if she adopted an asshole like Spot.

“I don’t know. That shouldn’t have been allowed to happen.” Davey looked from Jack back to Race. “And I’m sorry you had to go through without anyone to help you. I can’t even imagine how terrifying that would be. But the thing is, no one has heard from any of the New York packs in over 20 years. I’m supposed to try and make contact with them, or find out what happened to them.”

“But I’m only seventeen.” Race said.

“So there were still wolves here after we lost contact.”

“Wait, you’ve been out of touch for 20 years and you’re only now trying to get in touch?” Jack asked.

“Of course not. We sent messengers, but at first… at first, none of them came back. Then about 5 years ago they started coming back, but the city was empty. They couldn’t find anyone here. Two decades ago there were over a hundred of us here, now there’s none.”

“Hundred’s not that many.” Jack was sitting forward, all his attention focused on Davey.

Davey chuckled. “There aren’t exactly a lot of us. My family is half the population of Buffalo.”

“But what could have happened to them? Hunters like on Supernatural?” Race looked worried.

“No. Hunters are rare enough as is. We go to a lot of trouble to hide, and we don’t go around attacking people, so most humans wouldn’t bother.”

“Youse don’t? Thought you all had some sort of urge to kill under the full moon.”

Davey shook his head at Jack’s question and looked at Race. “Have you ever felt the urge to kill a human?”

Race started to shake his head, then paused. “I mean, Jack a few times, but I don’t think that's because of the wolf thing.”

“No, that seems like a perfectly normal reaction to having met him. Especially if you believe Sean.”

“Hey!” Jack glared at them both and pretended to pout.

They ignored him.

“So you can change during the day?” Race asked.

“Near the full moon. It’s easier at night and closer to the full moon. There’s about a week each month I can manage daytime changes and two weeks of nighttime.”

“Look, that’s nice and all, but can we get back to figuring out what happened to Race’s parents?”

“I didn’t know that’s what we were doing.” Davey looked at Jack and then back to Race. “Do you remember them at all? How old were you when…”

Race nodded. “A little. I don’t remember them being…” He gestured between himself and Davey. “I was three. One day they dropped me off at preschool, and they never came back.”

“So that would be 2004 then?”

“Yeah.”

“So there were two adult oborotni still living here 14 years ago.”

“Why two, how do you know one of them wasn’t… you know… regular?” Jack asked.

Davey tilted his head to the side. “I guess it’s possible, but I’ve never heard of it happening. If things got serious enough for marriage, the oboroten partner would bite the other. Outliving your spouse wouldn’t be fun.”

“Outliving them?” Race asked.

“Uh, well. I assume you know that silver is bad, right?”

Race nodded.

“Well, that’s one of the three things that can kill us.” Davey paused and looked Race dead in the eyes. “Only three things.”

“And old age isn’t one of those?”

“Wait, you don’t age? How old are you then?” Jack was looking David up and down.

“Eighteen, we don’t stop aging until around 30, give or take a few years.”

“Why 30?”

“I don’t know. They say the brain doesn’t finish developing until 28, so maybe it’s something to do with that.”

“You saying my brain isn’t fully developed?” Jack deadpanned.

Davey looked Race in the eyes again and shrugged in Jack’s direction.

“You don’t seriously think it is, do you, Cowboy?” Race focused on his roommate.

Davey mouthed the word Cowboy and smirked at Jack.

Jack grasped his chest in mock outrage. “You wound me. And after all the things I done for you.”

Race didn’t even look at Jack. “So what are the other two things that can kill us? Besides silver.”

Davey nodded. “Beheading and grief.”

“Grief?”

“Well… when two oborotni become mates… well… we mate for life.” Davey blushed and looked at the floor, Jack thought it was adorable. “When someone’s mate dies, they usually die within a day or two. I think the record is almost a month.”

“Wait, are you saying no casual sex?”

Davey shook his head. “Mating is more than just sex. It's an emotional bond, spiritual.”

“Spiritual?” Jack raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You don’t believe that?”

Davey looked at Jack and narrowed. “Your best friend is a werewolf, and spiritual is where you draw the line?”

Jack looked down at the ground. “Okay, when you put it like that.”

“What about drowning?” Race asked out of nowhere.

Davey made a face and crossed his arms, almost like he was trying to hug himself. “It’s… it’s unpleasant but you won’t die.”

“Why does it sound like you’re speaking from experience?” Jack tried to keep his voice steady.

Davey shrugged but didn’t say anything else.

“So, how do I learn to control this? Cause I gotta say, college would be a lot easier if I don’t have to be furry three nights a month.”

Jack could have kissed Race for changing the subject.

Davey rubbed his hands together and stood up from the chair. He sat down on the floor crossing his legs and then motioned for Race to join him on the ground. He closed his eyes.

Race got down on the floor and copied Davey’s position.

“First you have to learn to feel it. It probably won’t be enough for tonight, but you should learn to at least prevent the change by the end of October.”

“October?” Jack asked, not sure whether he thought that was a long time or shorter than he expected.

Davey cracked an eye at him. “He can only practice three nights a month, now either be quiet or leave.” He closed his eye again.

Jack huffed but didn’t move.

“Now the first thing you need to do is focus on your breathing.” Davey took a deep breath, held it, and released it. “In… hold… out…”

Race followed along, even as he tried not to fidget.

Jack leaned back on his bed and watched them.

Jack zoned out after a little while and started doing homework only half listening as Davey talked about breathing, and connecting to your inner wolf, and feeling for the power coiled at the base of your spine. Davey left around 10 a.m. to go buy his textbooks, promising to come back that night to coach Race through his change.

Jack took Race out to an early lunch after that. They went to Jacobi’s, it was convenient even if it was Jack’s second visit within the last 24 hours.

“So?” Jack asked after a harried waiter had brought them their drinks.

Race stopped blowing bubbles in his soda and met Jack’s eyes. “What?”

Jack looked around, making sure no one at the nearby tables was listening, not that it would really matter. He was pretty sure they could talk about werewolves in Times Square and people would just think they were crazy. He faced Race across the table and stared at him, waiting for him to speak.

Race looked back down at his drink. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“What you’re feeling, dumbass.”

Race shrugged. “I don’t even know what I’m feeling.”

“Why not?”

“I guess. I always thought if I met another,” Race gestured at himself, “you know, that it’d be my parents coming back for me.”

Jack rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at the table. “Oh.”

“I always knew they were probably dead. I mean, once I was old enough to think about it at all.” He took a drink of his soda. “But… I hoped. You know how it is.”

“Can’t say as I really do.” Jack continued staring down at the table. He knew a lot of kids in the system dreamed of parents, or other relatives, coming to rescue them, but he knew his mom was dead. It was an open casket funeral, and he knew right where his father was for twenty-five to life. Well, fifteen to life now.

“Oh, right.” Race went back to blowing bubbles in his soda.

The waiter brought their orders, and the pair ate in silence. Jack wasn’t hungry anymore, but he’d learned a long time ago to always eat food whenever it was available. He assumed the sandwich was good, but it tasted like ashes in his mouth. He finished it quickly and washed it down with some Mountain Dew.

“Someone killed them.”

Jack looked up at Race, who’d just finished his sandwich.

“I used to think it might have been an accident or something. If it was a car accident, the police would’ve found them and told me. And they can’t have just fallen off the Brooklyn Bridge or something. You heard what Dave said.”

“So that’s why you asked him about drowning.” Jack thought about the look on Davey’s face.

“Only so many ways people can disappear without a trace, and all of us,” Race gestured at himself again, “disappeared around that time. We don’t sound like the type to go down easy. Something happened, someone killed them all.” Race paused and took a deep breath. He’d been getting louder as he spoke and the booth behind them was looking over. He leaned in and whispered, “Someone killed my fucking parents.”

Davey knocked on their door at 6:30 p.m., a half-hour before moonrise. Jack opened the door for him, Race was busy vibrating on his bed. Jack hadn’t seen him this worried before a change in years. Jack wondered if it was Davey’s presence that worried him, or what they’d talked about at lunch.

Davey walked in and Jack turned to close the door, but an arm shoved itself through the opening before he could. He pulled the door back open and saw Spot standing there.

“Do not hurt him.” Spot glanced over Jack’s shoulder at Davey and then glowered at Jack.

“What?”

“You heard me, Cowboy.”

“You’re my brother, shouldn’t you be giving the shovel talk to Davey?”

Spot didn’t respond, just turned and walked into his room.

Jack closed the door quietly. Turning around, he looked at Davey. “What exactly does my brother think is going on in here?”

“I didn’t tell him anything, but he probably thinks I’ve fallen for your charms,” David said it like it was the most ridiculous thing in the world.

“Hey, it’s not that improbable.”

“You get a word a day calendar?”

“Boys!” Can we focus on what’s important here?” Race stood and moved between them. “Me.”

Davey laughed. Jack liked the sound, but couldn’t suppress a pang of jealousy that it was Race who’d made Davey laugh and not him.

Davey pulled out his phone and checked the time, then turned to face Jack. “Okay, this time I mean it. Out.” He pointed at the door.

“Davey, we already talked about this.”

Davey shook his head. “We did, but I’m going to change with him, and I am not stripping in front of you.”

“What, not ever?” Jack was definitely jealous of Race now and trying to fight down a blush. He wasn’t succeeding.

Davey rolled his eyes and started shoving Jack towards the door. Race opened the door and Jack allowed himself to be shoved through. He heard the door lock behind him. He turned and knocked on his brother’s door.

“You forget your-,” Spot stopped as he opened the door and saw Jack standing there. “What are you doing here?”

Jack shoved past his brother and pulled out a desk chair to sit on. “I’ve been exiled.”

“Exiled or sexiled?”

Jack looked up at Spot, noticing something in his eyes. “Exiled. Why? You got a thing for Davey?”

“No, I do not have a thing for my roommate.”

Jack narrowed his eyes. “You got a thing for Racetrack?”

Spot threw a pillow across the room and nailed Jack in the head. “I’m only letting you in here for Medda’s sake.”

“Aww, thanks. I love you too, bro.”

Spot walked across the room, picked up the pillow he’d thrown, and threw it at Jack again.


	6. Sorcerers and Zombies

Race locked the door behind Jack and turned to face David. “So, this just an excuse to get me out of my clothes?” He waggled his eyebrows.

“Yes, you’ve caught on to my master plan to get you naked.” David rolled his eyes and sat down on Jack’s bed.

“I knew it. You love me.” Race clasped his hands in front of his heart and swooned onto his bed.

David took off his shoes and started pulling at his socks. “Strip and start your breathing exercises.

“Yes, Senpai.”

David threw the sock in his hand at Race’s face, hitting him in the forehead.

Race made a retching sound. “God, have you never once washed your feet.” He pulled it off his face and tossed it as far away as he could, which happened to be under Jack’s bed.

“I warned you.” David pulled his shirt off.

“Ugh, fine. You are no fun.” Race started undressing.

“I haven’t murdered you, or Jack, so I’d say I’m plenty of fun.” David took off his pants and underwear and sat down on the ground.

Race finished removing his clothes in silence and then sat down next to David in the meditative position he’d been shown that morning. He closed his eyes and started the breathing exercises, but David could tell he wasn’t focusing on it.

“I think my parents were murdered.”

David nodded his head, his own eyes closed, then remembered Race wouldn’t be able to see him. “Probably.”

“You said there aren’t that many hunters though?”

“Hunters wouldn’t be able to kill every oborotni who entered the city for more than a decade. At least not human ones.”

“Wait. What else is there?”

David opened one eye to see that Race was staring at him, no longer even attempting the breathing exercises. “Did you really think only werewolves were real?”

“I guess.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I never really thought about it. But I haven’t run into any zombies or elves.”

“You hadn’t run into any of our kind either.” David watched Race shrug and close his eyes again. David closed his eye. “Focus on your breathing right now. There’ll be plenty of time to talk when it isn’t almost the full moon.”

Race grumbled, but David heard his breathing return to a steady rhythm.

“Good, now focus on the base of your spine.” David focused on his own. “You should be able to feel it there. Like an itch or a tingle.”

“It tickles.”

“Let yourself feel it. Feel how it’s growing, like sand in the bottom of an hourglass, counting down the time until moonrise.”

“An hourglass, really?”

“Shut up, I didn’t invent the technique, okay.”

“Fine, an hourglass, my spine is an hourglass filling with tickly sand.”

David ignored him for a few minutes and focused on his breathing, not that he needed to anymore, but his parents had done it when they were teaching him. He assumed there must be some reason for it, even if it was just setting a good example. The moon was about to rise.

“Now feel where it’s at, and try to hold it there. Push it down with your breath as you inhale.” David inhaled, doing as he described. “And hold it there while you exhale.” He exhaled when he felt the familiar change that signaled moonrise.

Race lasted five minutes. David was surprised he’d held it off even that long. David had only managed three his first time. He was, however, horrified at watching Race change. He was still fighting it every step of the way and it was taking far longer than it should. David flinched at the drawn-out symphony of cracking bones.

“Race, don’t fight it. Just let it happen. Here, watch me if you can.”

David didn’t just release his hold on the itching at the base of his spine, he pulled it out and into himself as quickly as he could. It rushed through him, and his body changed, in seconds he fell forward onto his paws. David turned his brown-furred head to look at Race, still going through the change. He whimpered. He knew the change didn’t hurt, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable either. It was another thirty seconds, or several eternities, before Race finished, and collapsed to the floor in exhaustion.

David sniffed at Race, smelling human sweat, still drying beneath his fur, and cigar smoke. David sneezed.

Race startled at the sound, and jumped up, opening his eyes. He looked at David in what David could only interpret as awe. His tail was pointing straight at the ground between his legs.

David’s tail drifted to stand straight up as he sniffed Race again, and then gestured at Race with his muzzle.

Race turned and sniffed at David.

David lifted his nose and took a deep breath, smelling the room. He could tell where his sock was under Jack’s bed and could tell that Jack needed to do laundry more often. He wandered around the room, letting his instincts guide him. Even Jack’s clean clothes smelled of paint and the smell of smoke lingered on all of Race’s possessions.

A low whine came from behind him, and David turned to see Race looking at him. He bent down with his forelegs and hoisted his hind into the air, inviting the other wolf to play. Race looked confused, and David wondered how out of touch he was with his wolf instincts. He repeated the gesture while wagging his tail. Race continued to look confused, so David took matters into his own paws and tackled the other boy. Race let out a startled bark. David jumped back and repeated the gesture for the third time. Race finally seemed to understand, his tail giving a small wag when David sprang at him again.

An hour later David changed back and started putting his clothes back on. Race jumped into his bed, turned around three times, and then lay down facing David.

David stood up and stretched out with a yawn. Playing for an hour had helped tire him out. He hadn’t realized how much he’d miss the freedom of giving in to the change and playing with his sister. He was almost happy one of his suitemates was a werewolf, even if they couldn’t play all night.

“Get some sleep. We’ll practice control again tomorrow.”

Race nodded and closed his eyes.

David unlocked the door and went to his room. Sean was sitting at his desk, earbuds in, and working on some homework. Jack was lying on David’s bed, his face illuminated only by the blue glow of the phone in his hand.

Jack looked up and met David’s eyes. “About time, youse should really turn down the volume when youse watching a nature documentary. Sounded like a whole pack of wolves in there.” He looked from David to Sean and raised his eyebrows. 

David blushed. He hadn’t even thought about how loud the two of them were being.

Jack stood up and headed towards the door to return to his room. “Oh, and your shirt is inside out.”

David saw Sean stiffen, and wondered if he was even listening to music or had the earbuds in to better ignore his brother. David rolled his eyes and shoved Jack the rest of the way out of the room, locking the door behind him.

Sean gave David the silent treatment for the rest of that night and the next day. David avoided Race for the rest of the week, uncertain whether he was doing it to stay on his roommate’s good side, to avoid discussing what could have orphaned Race, or both.

On Saturday David woke up to a pillow colliding with his head.

“You’re boyfriend is camped outside our door.” Sean was standing over him, pillow in hand.

“Who?” David wasn’t entirely awake but was certain he’d remember having a boyfriend.

“Racer.” Sean almost spat the name.

“What?” David sat up and rubbed the sleep from the corner of his eyes.

“Racetrack is blocking the door to our room. I don’t know what type of falling out you and your boy toy had, but go talk to him so I can go fucking shower.”

David looked at Sean and could tell he was furious. “Fine, but we are not dating.”

“Your fucktoy then.” Sean scowled.

“Sean, I promise you, I have not had sex with Race. I am not planning on having sex with Race. I am not particularly interested in Race.” David stood up and stretched.

“Whatever.”

David shook his head and walked to the door. He opened it and Race fell back into their room.

“Dave!” Race smiled and sat up.

David could almost feel Sean’s glare burning holes in his back. He bent down and offered Race a hand to help him up. “Let’s go to your room.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Someone is grumpy this morning.”

Race accepted David’s help and leaned to the side to look behind him. “Hi, Spot.” Race gave a small wave then turned and marched toward the open door to his room, dragging David by his hand.

David managed to get his hand free of Race’s, closed the door behind them, and then turned to beat his head against it. “He’s literally going to kill me.”

“Nah, he’s mostly just talk.” Jack’s voice sounded from behind him.

“He already thinks Race and I are a thing, and that did not help.” David turned and glared at Race.

“Oh, you are a dead man then.” Jack shrugged, still lying on his bed.

“Wait, why would he care?” Race looked from David to Jack in confusion.

David shot a look of exasperation at Jack and saw it mirrored on the tanned boy’s face. He shook his head and turned back to Race. “So, to what do I owe the honor of your morning campout?”

“Right.” Race turned and sat down on his bed. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I’ve been busy adjusting to campus.” David lied.

“No, you’ve been busy avoiding discussing what happened to my parents.”

David shrugged. He had been.

“Look, I’m not some guy looking to get revenge. But I deserve to know what happened to them, and you know more than you’re willing to say.” 

David stared down at the ground.

“Dave.”

David looked back up at Race, then looked at Jack from the corner of his eyes. Jack was still lying on his bed, but his eyes were focused on David. He considered asking Jack to leave, but Race would tell him whatever David said anyway, and it wasn’t like Jack didn’t already know too much. He didn’t need Sean thinking Jack had been sexiled again either. David walked over and sat down on Jack’s bed, near his feet, and turned to face Race.

“So, zombies and elves.” Race gestured for David to proceed.

“Elves aren’t a thing.”

“But zombies are?” Jack asked from behind him.

“It is possible for a corpse to be reanimated by a sorcerer.”

“Sorcerer?” Race was leaning forward on his bed. “You’re saying magic is, like, a real thing?”

“You’re a werewolf, did you think that wasn’t magic?”

“Yeah. It’s why I’m majoring in Biology, I want to figure out how I fucking work. I ain’t never run into anything weird besides myself.”

“Can anyone learn magic or is it like Harry Potter?” Jack asked.

David snorted. “Not like Harry Potter, at all. Anyone could learn it, but it’s not like in movies. It’s a lot of math. Like, you have no idea how much math. Even a simple thing can take days to perform, and if you’re off by even the slightest bit.” David shuddered. 

“Can you do it?” Race was leaning so far forward David was pretty sure he was about to fall off his bed.

David froze for a moment, his eyes darting toward the door. “No.” David took a deep breath. “No. I’ve seen a few things done, and I have used a few enchanted things, which is really the only way to make magic practical, but I haven’t studied it.”

“Hey, I’m good at math.” Race leaned back on his bed.

“No,” David said.

“What?”

“I won’t help you learn. You don’t understand. There’s a cost to using magic. There’s always a cost, and it’s almost never worth it.”

“Whoa, what type of cost?” Jack was still lying down behind him.

David shrugged. “It varies. What we do usually just requires pain or maybe some blood. But some of the sorcerers out there… well, human sacrifice isn’t unheard of.”

The room was silent for a few moments.

Jack sat up behind him. “Okay. Was not expecting that.”

David couldn’t think of anything to do but shrug his shoulders again.

“So sorcerers and zombies, yes. Elves, no. What else is there?” Race had leaned forward again.

David shook his head to clear it and focused on Race again. “There are two other types of shifters: the naga and the nagual. The naga are—”

“Snakes. The other ones are jaguars, right?” Race looked smug.

“How did you—”

“Please, I read, like, every website about shapeshifters.”

David nodded, it made sense he supposed. “Well, as I said, the oborotni are originally from Russia. Well, now it’s Russia, we’re a lot older than the country. The nagas are from South-East Asia, and the naguals are from here.”

“Here?” Jack asked.

“The Americas.” David took a deep breath. “There’s a lot of bad blood between us and them.”

“Figures, wouldn’t expect cats and dogs to get along,” Jack smirked.

David clenched his fists. “You really don’t understand.”

Jack’s face fell.

Race looked between them. “Then explain, Dave.”

“We spread throughout Europe, so when the colonists came to America, so did we. We were proud and stupid. We sided with our human countrymen, and the nagual fought us.” David crossed his arms. “They were vicious, so we were more vicious. We didn’t understand why until later. They’d captured… things. Dark things, beneath the earth. Only the nagual knew the ways to keep them bound. When the things started to break free, we blamed them for it. The war was long and horrible. We won, here at least, if you can call it that. We all but exterminated them in North America. We avoid each other now.”

“So you were filthy imperialists, just like everyone from Europe.” Race summed the situation up.

“Long time to hold a grudge. Not like it’s the fault of anyone alive today.” Jack patted David on the shoulder.

David looked at Jack in disbelief. “We don’t die of old age, Jack. Some of our filthy imperialists are still alive, and they have not mellowed with age. There are survivors of the war on the nagual’s side too, who can recount all of our atrocities against them.”

Jack let out a low whistle. “Didn’t think of that.”

“Yeah, I guess most people aren’t used to families where your great-great-great-great-great-grandparents might still be alive.”

“Are yours?” Race asked.

David nodded. “Yeah, but I’ve only met them once. They live in Poland.”

“So, if these nagual really hate us, could they be responsible for my parents?”

“That is what most everyone thinks happened.”

“So how do you kill a nagual? Silver? Obsidian?” Race was leaning forward, his eyes narrowed to slits.

“Gold.”

Jack whistled.

“Damn, them cats are bougie.” Race sounded annoyed.

“I think you might be putting the cart before the horse. Before the foal even.”

“What?” Race and Jack asked at the same time.

“Jinx.” Race said.

“What are you two, ten?” David asked.

Jack remained silent.

“Almost.” Race gave a half-smile then frowned again. “Now what did you mean about carts and foals?”

“First, we’re not even sure it is the nagual—”

“I am.”

“It could be something they left behind, or sorcerers, or something we don’t even know about.”

“No, it’s the cats.”

David rolled his eyes. “Even if you’re right, we’d still need to find them before we even considered needing gold weaponry. Besides, given that whatever was happening here stopped years ago, they probably aren’t still here.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Look, Race - Tony, I… well I don’t understand, but I get that whoever killed your parents hurt you. You can’t just go off and start hunting the city for nagual.”

“Why not?”

“For starters, do you even know anything about fighting?”

“Do you?”

“Unfortunately.”

Race leaned back at that. “Unfortunately?”

“We take combat training very seriously.”

“How seriously.”

“I was taught how to keep fighting no matter how much pain I was in.”

Race swallowed.

Jack leaned forward to look at David.

“To teach me to handle a weapon with either hand, they’d cut off the one I wasn’t supposed to use.”

“Shit, Davey.”

Race punched Jack in the shoulder.

David shrugged and studied the floor, noticing Jack’s underwear sticking out from beneath the bed.


	7. Silver Nitrate

Jack was up early the following Tuesday and the first day of classes, wondering why he’d thought taking an 8 a.m. class four days a week was a good idea. He was trying to figure out why a Studio Art major needed math credits anyway. Race was still asleep when Jack walked back into the room from his shower and fished under his bed for some underwear that wasn’t too disgusting. It’d only been a week, but he hadn’t packed that much and was trying to put off laundry as long as possible. He didn’t feel like learning how to use the dorm’s machines, or learning where the laundry room even was. He considered bagging it all up and taking it home, then maybe Medda would take pity and do it for him, but he decided she’d probably make him do it himself. Maybe if he could last until the next full moon the smell would bother Race enough that he’d do it.

It was after Labor Day, which meant Halloween was just around the corner, at least as far as Jack was concerned. He wondered if werewolves celebrated. He knew Race did, but Race hadn’t been raised by the other werewolves. Davey had. His mind drifted to thoughts of the other werewolf while he finished putting on his clothes. He’d had a crush on the boy since he saw him over his brother’s shoulder that first day in the dorm. Should he have been more worried about the werewolf thing? Maybe, but his best friend was a werewolf, so he’d gotten pretty used to the whole thing and keeping track of the phases of the moon. The more he got to know Davey, the more he liked him. There was something so sad about him though, that Jack just couldn’t put his finger on.

Jack shoved his chemistry book in his backpack, he had that class after his college algebra course and wouldn’t have time to make it back to the room between. He slung the bag over one shoulder, glowered at Race who was mumbling in his sleep, and headed out the door. He almost ran into Spot who was glaring back into his room.

“-nothing between Tony and me.” David’s voice finished from inside his room as Spot shut the door, not quite slamming it, but not far from it.

“Wait, what?” Jack asked.

Spot spun to glare at him. “Nothing.”

The door opened and Davey appeared in the doorway. “Jack, will you tell him that I’m not sleeping with your roommate?”

Jack blinked and looked from Davey to Spot. “Why would you think anything is going on between them?” Jack’s eyes widened. “Wait, why would you care if anything was?”

Spot suddenly found the floor very interesting, but Jack could tell he was fighting down a blush.

“Holy shit.” Jack clapped his hands. “You really do have a crush on Racer?”

Spot punched Jack in the arm and turned towards the door. “I’m going to be late for class.”

Jack smiled at Davey, then turned and followed his brother to the elevators.

“You have a crush on Racer.”

“You already said that, jackass.”

“And you didn’t deny it.”

“Maybe I can jump down the elevator shaft.” Spot crossed his arms. “Or better yet, push you down it.”

Jack grasped his hand over his heart. “But just think what either of those would do to ma?”

“I don’t think she’d miss you that much.”

Jack backhanded Spot’s arm and then had to shake his hand out. Spot was short but very solid.

Spot snorted. “Not one word to your roommate.”

Jack smirked. “Of course not.”

“I mean it, Cowboy. I know where you sleep.”

“Cross my heart, bro.” Jack crossed his heart.

Jack made it to his first class on time, though not by much. He slunk to a desk in the back of the room and collapsed into it. The teacher wasn’t there yet, and he took a moment to again wonder why he’d taken such an early class. Why he’d chosen to take math, of all things, so early. He couldn’t think of a worse way to wake up. He wished he had an energy drink, but he’d been distracted by Spot and Davey and forgot to grab one. A grumbling figure took the desk next to him and Jack rolled his eyes when he realized who it was. Great, just what he needed.

“Morning, Kelly.”

“What do you want, Delancey?”

“What, I can’t say good morning to my favorite orphan?”

“Fuck off.”

“Temper, temper.”

Jack’s response was cut off by the professor walking into the room. He settled for glaring at Morris Delancey while the professor took attendance. If he’d known either of the Delanceys was going to in the class he’d never have taken it. They’d never, and would never, get along, Jack couldn’t figure out what the hell Morris could want from him now. He decided that he probably just wanted to torment him.

Jack loaded his bag before the end of class and was out the door as soon as the class was dismissed, ignoring Morris’s attempt to get his attention. He hurried to his chemistry class and patted himself on the back for managing to avoid whatever the hell Morris wanted.

Morris was waiting outside as Jack left chemistry, he grabbed Jack’s arm and steered him into an empty classroom. “You can’t get away from me that easy, Kelly.”

“Are you stalking me?”

“Technically,” Morris bobbed his head in thought for a moment, “yes. I need a favor.”

“And you and me are such good friends that I would do you a favor.”

“Relax. It’s not like I’m asking you to move a body.”

“Yet.”

Morris laughed. “Right, yet.” He released his grip on Jack’s arm.

“What is it?”

“I’ve got some family business to attend to, I’m going to miss the rest of this week and all of next. I need someone to give me a copy of their math notes, and you’re the only person I know in the class.”

“Why are you in that class anyway? Aren’t you a sophomore?”

“Not that its any of your fucking business, but I took a gap year, so I’m in the same year as you and Oscar.”

“And why would I give you a copy of my notes?”

Morris held up his hand between them and folded his fingers one by one into a fist while staring Jack in the eyes.

“This isn’t high school anymore, and even then, when was I ever afraid of you?”

“Just ‘cause you’re too dumb to be. Bet that doesn’t mean you want to pick a fight over some notes though.”

Jack sighed, as much as he hated Morris and wanted to tell him to go fuck himself on principle, he knew Morris would get off with a slap on the wrist. Not for the first time Jack wished he came from a rich family and could get away with whatever he wanted. “Fine, I’ll copy the notes when you get back.”

Morris smiled, but it did nothing to hide the mean look in his eyes. “See, now was that so hard?” He patted Jack’s cheek then turned toward the door. “Make sure they’re legible.”

Jack stayed where he was and took some deep breaths, trying to calm himself. He managed to prevent himself from storming after Delancey and punching the prick in the back of the head, but it was a close call. Medda would be proud of him.

A professor showed up in the room he’d been pulled too and chased Jack off. He headed for the nearest dining hall and settled for getting himself the most caffeinated soda he could find, or at least he hoped it was, and a serving of meat casserole, or at least he hoped it was. He sat down at a two-seat table and took a long drink of his Mountain Dew and then turned his attention to the gray mush on his plate.

Jack was poking at the claimed food with his plastic fork, debating just how hungry he was with himself, when the chair opposite him was suddenly occupied and another tray full of gray goop was set down. He took a deep breath before looking up, if it was Morris again, he wouldn’t be held liable for his actions. He looked up and saw a blond boy with an eyepatch over his left eye and let out the breath.

“Blink.” He turned his attention back to his food.

“That’s it? You ain’t seen me since grad night and that’s all you have to say?”

“That was less than three months ago.” Jack stabbed a lump with his fork and held it up to his nose. It had no smell. “I don’t think this is actually food.”

Blink looked down at his plate. “No, it’s definitely not. But it is cheap.” He picked up a forkful and ate it.

“How is it?”

“Wet, cold, and tasteless.”

Jack scrunched up his nose and took a bite. Blink hadn’t fallen over, so at least it couldn’t be too toxic. Although if it did kill him, he’d never have to worry about seeing Morris Delancey again. He took another bite.

“I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“Sorry, bad morning. How’s things?”

“You mean since you dumped me?”

Jack took another deep breath, maybe Morris would have been better. “Look, I may have pulled the trigger, but you know we aren’t good for each other. Least not together.”

“Oh, I know. Besides, I’ve got my eye on someone.” Blink winked at him.

Jack chuckled and looked back down at his food.

Blink kicked him under the table. “So what’s eating you?”

“Morris.”

“Delancey?”

“Apparently he took a gap year and is now in my math class. My too-early-to-be-awake math class.”

“Shit, think that means Oscar is here somewhere too?”

“Morris said he was.”

“Shit, hope I don’t have any classes with him.”

“Same. One Delancey is more than enough.” Jack poked at the food on his plate some more. “You staying on campus or with your mom?”

“Campus. If I had to hear about how much she wishes I’d get a girlfriend again.” Blink shuddered. “You?”

“Campus.” Jack tried another bite of the presumed casserole.

“How’re your roommates?”

Jack took the time to chew the rubbery mass before answering. “I’m rooming with Race. Spot and a guy named Davey have the other room in the suite.”

Blink’s eye widened. “Spot agreed to room with you?”

“Nope, assigned. You shoulda seen his face.”

“How the hell did you manage that?”

“I didn’t have anything to do with it.” Jack felt like he’d had to defend himself about this more times than was fair.

“Sure.”

Jack felt like screaming.

The first few weeks of classes flew by in a frenzy of stress. Jack didn’t think high school had done anything to prepare him for college. Even his one AP class had been a joke compared to his first week in a university. Spot who was determined to hide from Jack, and dragged Davey with him most of the time. Jack was sure he’d be trying to avoid Race too, but they had three classes together, so spent a lot of time studying in Spot and Davey’s room. Jack didn’t get a chance to see Davey that often. Race did, but it seemed like both Race and Davey were swallowed alive by homework and didn’t have time to even discuss anything supernatural. It was almost the end of September and a few days before the full moon. Jack figured that meant Davey would have to come by that weekend to continue Race’s training.

Jack walked into the room on a Thursday afternoon to the sound of the shower running, which was odd. Jack was first back to the room on most days. Spot and Race should still be in biology, a class they shared with Oscar Delancey, based on their complaints. Which meant Davey had to be the one in the shower. Jack opened the door to his room and collapsed on his bed. He heard the shower turn off and rolled over to make sure he had a clear view of the path from the bathroom door to Davey’s room.

The first thing Jack noticed when Davey opened the door was that he was wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. The second thing Jack noticed was that while thin, Davey was a lot more toned than he’d expected. He wondered if werewolves had a higher metabolism or if the other boy worked out. The third thing he noticed, when Davey turned to glance through Jack’s open door, was a nasty looking burn on the right side of this chest and his side.

“What the Hell happened to you?” Jack was standing next to Davey almost before he realized he’d moved.

Davey held up a single finger and opened the door to his room, he peaked in, and after confirming it was empty he went in and sat down on the bed.

Jack sat down next to Davey and took a closer look at the burn. It was blistering. He reached out to touch it, and Davey hissed in pain.

“What the fuck, Davey?”

“Accident in the chem lab, my lab partner spilled silver nitrate on me.”

“They let you play around with dangerous stuff in 101?”

Davey gave an empty chuckle. “It’s not dangerous to most people.”

Jack blinked. “Right, silver.” He leaned in to look, trying not to think about the fact that Davey was only wearing a towel and didn’t seem at all shy about it. This was not the time to have  _ those  _ thoughts. “How long will this take to heal?”

Davey shrugged, then made a face as the motion pulled his burned skin. “Maybe a week? It’s my first chemical burn, well silver-based, I mean.”

“You had a lot of chemical burns?”

Davey started to shrug again but stopped himself. “My family is serious about learning to fight through the pain.”

Jack flinched. He’d been knocked around by his dad and a foster parent or three, but the more he heard about Davey’s life, the more it sounded like hell. Worse, Davey didn’t even seem to think there was anything wrong with it.

“Can I get you anything for that?”

“Do painkillers work on burns?”

“I think so.” Jack wrinkled his brow. “I never really thought about it. Want me to run to the drug store and get some burn cream, don’t know if it will help with the healing, but it should at least numb it.”

The burn looked bad. Jack figured if he had a burn like that he’d be on the way to urgent care. Even if he didn’t want to go, Race and Spot would drag him there. Still, he supposed, explaining a silver burn to a doctor would be awkward.

Davey shrugged and reached for a shirt.

“You sure you should be wearing clothes over that?”

“No, but I don’t want to explain it to Sean.”

Jack got up and headed for the door, turning to look at Davey. “I’ll run to the store, you need anything else while I’m out?”

“No, but... thanks, Jack. Really, thank you.”


	8. Burn Gel

Jack left, and David pulled the t-shirt on, careful of the burn on his side. It didn’t help. The cloth felt like fire, and he found himself hoping the burn cream would work. He put on his pajama bottoms, lay down on his uninjured side, and tried not to think about how Jack had touched the burn. It had been soft, gentler than even his mother’s touch.

David shook his head.

Jack was attractive, too attractive. He couldn’t think of any reason why someone who looked like that would be interested in someone who looked like him. Besides, even if Jack didn’t realize he could do much better than him, David couldn’t allow himself to fall for a human. His parents would dismember him, again. Although, if they did get together and things did work out, he could bite him. If he thought about it, David knew he should bite him either way. Jack already knew too much. If Jack broke all contact with David’s world, then he might be safe, but he couldn’t see Jack ever abandoning Race.

David shook his head again.

Jack was a distraction. He needed to focus on finding out what happened in New York. Well, that and going to school. His hand drifted to his side and he hissed as his fingers brushed above the burn. Why did his lab partner have to spill silver nitrate on him? Any other chemical in the lab and he would’ve been fine. But no, it had to be silver. He couldn’t even blame his lab partner. Louis did only have one eye, and it was David who had come up on his blind side and startled him.

He heard the outer door open and recognized Sean’s footsteps. He’d learned all of his roommates’ footsteps by now. Great, just what he needed.

Sean came into the room and flung his backpack onto his bed then looked over at David. “You’re back early.” He looked David over. “You feeling okay?”

“Not really.” David tried to shrug but made a face when it pulled some of the burned skin on his side.

“What’s wrong?”

“My lab partner spilled something on in me in the chem lab.”

“What was it? I didn’t think they’d let you use anything dangerous in a freshman lab.”

“They don’t, but I must have an allergy.” David managed to resist the urge to try and shrug again, he hadn’t realized how often he shrugged until he couldn’t.

“Want me to take a look?”

“What?” David really, really didn’t want anyone else to see.

“I am pre-med.”

“You’re a freshman.” David tried to keep the laughter out of his voice, but based on Sean’s reaction, he’d failed.

“Fine. See if I ever try to help you again.”

“I appreciate it, Sean, but Jack already ran to the store to get something for it.”

Sean snorted. “He’s just trying to get his hands on your body.”

“He’s…” David knew that wasn’t why Jack was doing it, but couldn’t keep himself from blushing. “Well, not just that.”

“Christ, you have it bad for him.”

David opened his mouth to deny it, he didn’t have it bad for Jack. He just had it a little. He decided turning the argument around would work better. “Not as bad as you have it for Race.”

Sean narrowed his eyes. “That’s—”

“Honey, I’m home,” Jack called from the entryway. He walked into the room, plastic bag in hand. He nodded to his brother. “Hey, Spot.”

Sean smirked at David and grabbed his gym bag from the closet. “Why don’t I just leave you two lovebirds alone.”

David threw his pillow at Sean, nailing the other teen in the face. Sean sputtered and threw the pillow back at him. David caught it and raised an eyebrow at his roommate. Sean glared at him, threw his backpack over his shoulder, and stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

“Well, you two are getting along great.”

David tried to glare at Jack, but couldn’t quite bring himself too.

Jack emptied the bag on Sean’s bed, spilling a collection of burn creams and sprays across the blanket. “I didn’t know what would work best, so I sorta grabbed a bunch.”

David laughed and sat up. He started to take off his shirt.

“Whoa, let me help you with that, you shouldn’t move more than you have to.”

“It’s just pain, Jack.” But David stopped and let Jack pull the t-shirt over his head, leaving him in only his plaid pajama bottoms.

Jack stared for a moment and David became self-conscious, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He knew he was skinny. He hoped seeing him like this might repel Jack enough that he’d stop flirting. Jack backed away and turned his attention to Sean’s bed.

“So, I checked all the ingredients, and none of these contain silver.”

“Why would they?”

“I dunno, I just thought I should check.” Jack ran his palm across the back of his neck and blushed. “So do you want to try one of the sprays or creams?” He picked up a bottle. “This one says it’s a gel, not really sure how that’d be different from cream. Clear I guess?”

David had no idea what the differences between the products were. Even his worst burns healed in minutes, so it wasn’t something he’d ever had to learn. He was pretty sure Jack was babbling now and had no idea what to think of that, so he chose not to. “Let’s just try that.” He pointed to the bottle of gel in Jack’s hand.

Jack nodded and moved over to sit next to David. David held his hand out for the bottle, but Jack pulled it out of his reach.

“You won’t be able to get all of it yourself, not without hurting yourself.” Jack opened the bottle and squeezed some onto the palm of his hand. “Let me.”

David tried to argue, but Jack was already reaching out, and David was consumed by the memory of how soft his touch had been before. Jack’s fingers brushed over the burn, glided slick with the gel. It burned where Jack’s fingers touched, and David wasn’t certain it was only because of the silver. David looked away, his cheeks were warming up.

Jack rubbed the gel into his injury and it started to numb away the pain. It was an odd feeling or lack of feeling. David had never been allowed any sort of pain killer before, at least not that he could remember.

“I think that’s all of it.” Jack’s fingers stilled but didn’t pull away. “Does it feel any better?”

David turned to look at Jack and met his eyes, they were closer than he expected. They were a rich, dark green, and his pupils were huge. David tried to look away, but the green of Jack’s eyes pulled him in. “Yeah, it feels… better.”

“Good.” Jack’s voice was low. He stared into David’s eyes and then looked down at where his hand still rested against the burn. He started to pull his hand back, but David leaned forward as Jack moved, maintaining contact with him. Jack stopped and looked back up into David’s eyes.

David licked his lips, still looking Jack in the eyes. “Thanks for helping me.”

“I’m sure you’d do the same for me.” His eyes darted to David’s lips then back to his eyes. “I should probably go work on my homework.”

“Yeah, you probably should.” David didn’t know what he was thinking, wasn’t even sure he was thinking. He leaned closer to Jack, close enough that he could feel Jack’s breath on his face, and closed his eyes.

The bed shifted as Jack closed the distance between them, pressing his lips against David’s. They were chapped, but softer than David thought they would be.

David’s eyes blinked open when he heard the outer door open. All he could see was the back of Jack’s head and his messy brown hair. He pulled his arm out from under Jack and propped himself up on his elbow to look at the door. Sean walked in, threw his gym bag on his bed, and then turned to look at David’s bed while taking his sweat-drenched shirt off. He rolled his eyes and glared at them. There was an elaborate golden key hanging on a leather cord around his neck.

“Please tell me you two are done.”

David blushed, but nodded and sank back down behind Jack.

“Also, please tell me you both have something on under that, I do not need to see my brother naked.”

“Not sure your ego could take it?” Jack mumbled.

Sean sputtered before answering, “That’s rich coming from you.”

“Hey.” Jack shifted and sat up, revealing his bare chest and stretching his arms out, but keeping the sheet over his definitely-still-naked lap. “My ego is a perfectly healthy size.”

“Yeah, for a blimp.”

David chuckled.

Jack turned around to face David. “Didn’t hear you complaining earlier.” He leaned forward and gave David a chaste kiss on the lips.

David smiled against Jack’s lips but didn’t say anything.

Jack turned back to Sean. “As it happens, I am not wearing anything under this, so how about you take a step outside so we can get dressed?”

Sean sighed but headed towards the door. “I hate you so much.”

“Probably shouldn’t have let Ma adopt you then.”

Sean opened the door, tossed his sweaty shirt at Jack while walking out, and closed the door behind him.

“Please don’t antagonize him, I don’t want to be murdered in my sleep,” David said, sitting up. He made a face, the burn was starting to hurt again.

“You need some more gel?” Jack reached for the bottle on the floor where it had fallen.

David took the bottle from him. “Yeah, but I think I’ll do it myself this time. Let’s not leave Sean stewing out there longer than necessary.”

“What, you think I can’t rub my hands all over you without rubbing my hands all over you?” Jack smirked at him.

David leaned in and kissed him, then stood up and went looking for his underwear, which he found under Sean’s bed.

“Want to grab some food?” Jack stood up and grabbed his boxers from the foot of the bed.

“Jacobi’s?” David pulled his underwear on and then started applying the gel to his side.

“Sure.”

They finished getting dressed and David shoved the rest of Jack’s purchases back into the bag and then under his bed. He opened the door to find a grumbling Sean waiting on the other side. He glared at both of them, but let them pass before stomping back into the room. David and Jack made it as far as the elevator before bursting into laughter.

Somewhere between the front door of Founders Hall and Jacobi’s Deli, David had reached out and brushed his knuckles against the back of Jack’s hand. Jack’s hand had grabbed his, and though they walked the whole way in silence, trying not to break down laughing on the sidewalk, David couldn’t help but think how well their hands fit together. He smiled as they walked along.


	9. Incorrigible

Jack disentangled his hand from Davey’s when they reached the deli, held the door open for the taller boy, and then followed him in. They got the same booth where he’d run into Spot and Davey back when they moved into the dorms and sat across from each other. They placed their orders and sat in silence until the waiter had brought their drinks.

Jack took a sip of his drink and looked up at Davey. “So.” He looked back down at his drink. He wasn’t sure what he’d been thinking it would be like to get together with Davey, but he knew this wasn’t it.

“Let me guess. This is the part where now that you’ve added another notch to your bedpost you let me down easy?”

“What? No—” Jack looked up and, while Davey had said it in a monotone, there was a spark of mischief in his eyes. “Oh, very funny, haha. You’ve been spending too much time around Spot.”

Davey shrugged but didn’t attempt to deny it.

“So,” Jack started again and paused to see if Davey had any more smart remarks.

Davey arched an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

“Why do I have a crush on you, again?” Jack was looking directly at Davey

“Because you’re secretly a furry?”

“How long have you been waiting to use that line?”

“Since I was thirteen.”

Jack rolled his eyes and took a drink of his soda. “You’re not going to make this easy on me, huh?”

Davey smiled and took a sip of his soda.

“So,” Jack waited to see if Davey had anything smart to say or do this time, but he kept drinking his soda. “So, do you want to maybe go on a date?”

Davey stopped drinking and gestured around Jacobi’s. “Is that not what this is?” Davey’s foot rubbed against Jack’s leg.

Jack blinked and looked around. He looked at Davey and then at the table. It was only the two of them, at a restaurant. “Huh.”

“Yes, Jack, I would like to go on a date with you.” Davey smiled at him. “I mean a second date.”

Jack smiled and felt a blush burn across his cheeks. “You sure there ain’t some kinda rule against that?”

Davey looked around, but the booths and tables near them were empty at the moment. “There actually isn’t. I’m just not supposed to tell you about—” He whirled his finger in the air.

“That doesn’t sound like it would be good for a healthy relationship.”

“It’s not. That’s why the two boyfriends I had in high school broke up with me… and started dating each other.”

“Bonded over you?” Jack asked.

“More like they bonded over a small dating pool.”

They stopped talking when the waiter came to the table with their food and refills of their drinks. Jack had ordered one sandwich, but Davey had ordered two. Jack took a few bites of his sandwich while Davey seemed almost to inhale his first one. Jack was surprised but then realized Race had the same appetite. He’d always assumed Race just had a high metabolism; he was beginning to think it was a werewolf thing.

Jack set his sandwich down. “Not a lot of… others like you to date?”

“You could say that. Take the small percentage of people who are gay, and then take the absolutely tiny population of…” David twirled his finger in the air again. “Well, it’s less of a dating pool and more of a dating raindrop.”

“Well then, you’re lucky you met me.” Jack winked at Davey.

Davey laughed, and Jack loved the sound of it. “You’re an incorrigible flirt.”

“Which is the only reason I know what incorrigible means.”

“I’ll bet.” Davey picked up his second sandwich and took a large bite.

Jack took a few more bites of his sandwich and smiled. Davey had agreed to go out with him. Davey was attractive, tall, handsome, and in surprisingly good shape, but there was more about him too. He was smart, way smarter than him, Jack thought, but Davey never talked down to him, or anyone else. Something told Jack that Davey would be able to understand if he told him about his childhood. He already knew Davey hadn’t had a pain free life either, although Jack was worried that Davey didn’t seem to think there was anything wrong with the way he was raised. Normal kids shouldn’t be taught what it feels like to drown. Then again, Davey wasn’t normal. Jack didn’t know anything about werewolf culture, and he knew he didn’t, but drowning your children, even if you knew it wouldn’t kill them, that sort of thing had to be wrong no matter who you were. Jack took another bite of his sandwich. Davey had finished both of his. Jack shook his head; it really was just like eating with Race. 

“All of you,” Jack twirled his finger in the air like Davey had been, “eat like that?”

Davey looked at Jack’s half-eaten sandwich and looked down at the table with a slight blush on his cheeks. “Pretty much, especially after an injury.” He looked up and met Jack’s eyes while gesturing toward his burn.

“How’s that doing?”

“Still mostly numb.” Davey looked down at the table again. “Thanks again.”

Jack set his sandwich down and reached across the table. He took Davey’s hand in his. “Hey, it’s what anyone would do.”

Davey made a noise of disbelief but laced his fingers through Jack’s. Jack looked up and met Davey’s eyes. They were brown, a light brown that almost seemed golden under the deli’s lights. Jack found himself wishing there wasn’t a table between them. Instead of acting on his urges, Jack disentangled his fingers from Davey’s and picked up his sandwich.

Davey smiled at Jack and took another drink of his soda then looked around the room and back to Jack. He opened his mouth and started to mouth something, then stopped and looked down at the table. Jack considered telling Davey to spit it out but decided instead to finish off his sandwich. He tried not to applaud himself too much for showing restraint.

“Did you ever…” Davey started to ask but stopped, and took a large swallow of his soda.

Jack looked Davey in the eye and took a matching swallow of his soda. He hoped Davey would say whatever it was he wanted to soon. Jack was using every acting trick he’d ever learned from Medda to not show his curiosity. Davey’s eyes darted around again, confirming the tables nearby hadn’t filled in the last 15 seconds. Jack tried not to find that cute and failed.

“When you were a kid. Did you ever think about asking Race to bite you?” Davey took another long drink.

Jack blinked and leaned back. That was not the question he was expecting, not that he’d had any idea what to expect. He stopped himself from wondering more about that and tried to think about the question Davey had asked. Had he ever? Some people would’ve thought being a werewolf was cool, but Race hadn’t made it look like a good idea. Jack shrugged. “No thumbs and a shedding problem once a month? Never really seemed useful.”

Davey set down his glass. “What I’m about to ask… you can say no. You can take time to think about it.” Davey looked down at the table and rubbed the back of his neck. “What I mean is—”

“That you’ll still go out with me. I get it, Davey.”

Davey smiled at him. “Yeah. As bad an idea as that probably is.”

Jack snorted. “Now I know you’ve spent too much time with my brother.”

Davey kicked Jack under that table, but the tension had drained out of him, so Jack counted it as a win.

“Do you want to become an oboroten?” Davey asked.

Jack had guessed the question was coming but had no idea how to answer. It had always seemed like an annoyance to Race, but then they hadn’t known about the upsides. Davey was offering him near-immortality and that was a big thing. A very big thing. Too big. He couldn’t wrap his head around it.

Sometime, while he’d been thinking it over, the waiter had brought the check, and Jack realized that Davey had already paid for them both when he finished signing the check. Davey reached across the table and twined his fingers through Jack’s again. “You don’t need to answer.” Davey looked him in the eye and Jack knew he could lose himself in those brown depths. “Just think about it, please?”

Jack squeezed Davey’s hand and nodded.

They finished their drinks and headed back to the dorms, hand in hand.


	10. Storage Wars

Friday Jack took David on a date. They saw  _ Christopher Robin _ at a nearby theatre and then went to a restaurant for a late dinner. As much as David liked Jacobi’s, he was glad to see that the deli wasn’t the only place to eat. When they made it back to the dorms David discovered that Jack had persuaded Race to take David’s bed for the night, leaving the other room for the two of them. Neither of them mentioned what David asked the night before.

David disentangled himself from Jack the following morning and took a long shower. He felt like he was playing with fire. Not just because Jack was human. Ever since he’d understood that he was gay, David had known that if he ever wanted a relationship, he’d have to look outside the community. Even straight oborotni often looked elsewhere for romance. The cost of having a small population meant growing up being related to most of the eligible singles. But David was supposed to be focusing on school, and the mission he’d accepted to get his parents to even allow him to go to school in New York City. Dating Jack was not part of the plan. Dating Jack was a disaster waiting to happen. So why couldn’t he stop?

Someone pounded on the bathroom door. David had no idea how long he’d been standing under the shower. He turned the water off, slid the shower door open, and grabbed his towel. He wrapped it around his waist and opened the door to find Race bouncing from foot to foot.

“It’s about time.” Race surged past David and shoved him the rest of the way out the door, slamming it behind him.

David chuckled and headed towards his room to find a fresh set of clothes. Sean was nowhere to be seen, and Race hadn’t bothered to make his bed after spending the night there, not that David had expected him too.

He heard the toilet flush and the bathroom door open.

Race skidded back into the room. “Good, you’re still here. Don’t move until I get back.” Race turned and vanished out the door before David could even form a reply.

David closed and locked the door behind Race, changed into clean clothes, and shoved his pajama bottoms into the laundry basket he bought after living in the dorms for a week. It was full, he’d have to do something about that later.

Something bounced off the closed door.

David walked over, unlocked it, and opened the door to find Race sitting on the ground glaring up at him.

“You locked the door?”

“I was putting on clothes.”

“I’ve seen you naked.”

David rolled his eyes, glad that Sean wasn’t around. He offered Race a hand up then walked back into his room. 

Race followed him in and dropped onto Sean’s bed. “Rude, that’s what you is.”

David chuckled. “What do you want, Race?”

“What, I can’t just want to see my best werewolf friend?”

David gave Race a flat look, not even blinking.

“Fine, I was talking with my dad, trying to find out more about my birth parents, and he mentioned that all the stuff from the apartment was put into storage for me,” Race pulled a keyring out his pocket, “and I just got the key. So you and Jack are coming with me to look for clues.”

That was not what David had been expecting. It was a good idea, the best lead he’d found since coming to New York. David knew he hadn’t been looking as hard as he could have, but between classes, helping Race, and not letting Sean get suspicious, he hadn’t found time to search. He couldn’t remember how he’d expected his search to go, but so far David had found only Race. He knew his parents would be disappointed.

“Okay.” David reached for his shoes. “Oh and… thanks for switching rooms with me last night.”

Race waved away his thanks. “Don’t mention it. Besides, not like I minded the view.” Race looked down at Sean’s pillow.

“Why don’t you ask him out?”

“Yeah, I’m sure he wants to date a dog like me. At least Jack knows what you are.”

“You and Jack, you two never…?” David wasn’t sure what he wanted the answer to that question to be.

Race snorted. “‘Course we did, but I bet our parents are happy it didn’t work out. We’se like fire and oil. Sure they go together, but somethings going to burn down.”

David wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but he could see what Race meant. “Well, what are we waiting for?”

Race jumped up and rushed out the door and into his room. David heard Jack shout something, but soon enough Race was dragging them both out the door.

It took half an hour to get across town to the storage, and it was only David’s second time on the subway. He wasn’t a big fan of how crowded it was and, the day before the full moon, David was even less of a fan of the smell. He wasn’t sure how Race could stand it, besides long exposure.

It took Race a few minutes to even unlock the storage. David realized why when the door slid up, everything outside was clean and bright, everything inside was covered with fourteen years of dust. It was packed tight with old furniture and cardboard boxes that had seen better days and had fallen over to rest against the door at some point. A box of glasses and plates fell out onto the floor, shattering.

The three of them backed up and stared at the broken ceramic and glass.

“Wasn’t expecting that.” Jack toed a shard of plate away with his boots.

Race looked from the broken tableware to Jack’s feet. “Are you wearing cowboy boots?”

“They’re the only boots I own, and I didn’t want to drop anything heavy on my feet.”

“Those are new. When did you even buy those?”

David looked at Jack’s feet. He was wearing cowboy boots, blue cowboy boots. Blue cowboy boots that didn’t look like they’d ever been worn before. “When did you buy those?”

Jack tried to mumble his answer, but David and Race had no trouble hearing him. “My birthday.”

“You’ve had those for almost two months and I’m just now seeing them?” Race knelt to look closer and hissed in pain. “Dammit.” He stood back up and pulled a shard of glass out of his knee.

“Oh shit, Race.” Jack reached down towards Race’s leg and then stopped. “You shoulda left that in. We need to stop the bleeding.”

David ignored them both and looked through the storage until he found a ratty old mop near the opening. Not ideal, but it’d help clean up the glass.

Race shook his head as Jack continued to freak out. “Jack. It’s fine.” He pulled his bloody pant leg up and rubbed the blood from around the wound. “Look, healed already.”

Jack froze, staring at the leg. “Right, yeah. Forgot about that.”

David started shoving the shards around with the mop, doing his best to sweep them up. “Jack, go find a trash can and see if you can bring it here.”

Jack jumped a little and ran off. David hoped in search of a trash can.

“Well, this is a mess.” Race poked at an old armchair balanced on the back of a sofa. “I remember this chair.”

David finished sweeping the glass up as best he could with the mop and looked at Race. He was standing still, only his hand moving over the arm of the chair. Race sniffled and moved to rub at his eyes. David could see tears glinting on his face now. David leaned the mop against the wall and put his hand on Race’s shoulder. Race turned around and collapsed against him. David folded his arms around Race.

A wheel squeaked behind them. David wasn’t sure how long it had been, but his shirt was wet where Race’s face was pressed against him. He looked up to see Jack pushing a janitor’s cart. There was no janitor in sight. Jack gave him a look that David couldn’t interpret but didn’t say anything. Jack took a dustpan and small broom from the cart and started gathering the shards from where David had left them.

Race pulled away from David, he was still sniffling but was trying to compose himself. David ripped a paper towel off the roll on the janitor’s cart and handed it to Race, who dabbed his eyes and blew his nose. David ripped off another paper towel and wiped at his shirt.

“Sorry, about that.” Race threw his soaked towel in the trash bag that occupied most of the cart.

David shook his head. “Don’t be.”

Race looked back at the chair. “I just wasn’t—”

“You don’t have to explain.” David decided his shirt was as dry as it was going to get and threw it in the trash.

Jack had gathered up all the shards but made one last pass with the small broom before emptying the dustpan one last time. He looked into the crowded storage space. “I think we should keep the cart here for now.”

David nodded and turned to take in the boxes and furniture. The unit was packed floor to ceiling and wall to wall. It looked like removing anything would bring the rest down on their heads. Jack reached towards a box but Race and David each grabbed an arm and pulled him back.

In the end, they had to pull everything out of the storage unit. They repacked the furniture at the back then started going through boxes. It seemed like whoever packed the boxes hadn’t cared much for organization. Boxes were filled with a mishmash of clothes, Race’s baby toys, books, and all the other detritus of the common household. David sorted the books into a pile while Jack packed the clothes and other things away. Race was sitting on the floor clutching an old stuffed wolf and flipping through the closest stack of books.

David had sorted the books by type. A set of World Book Encyclopedias from the late 80s and a collection of romance novels, at least David assumed they were romance novels based on the covers — they were all in Italian, were put the furthest away. Next, a collection of children’s books in a roughly even mix of English, Italian, and Russian were followed by a stack of photo albums David was pretty sure Race would want. He sat down next to Race and grabbed a book off the last stack, that consisted of all the remaining books.

It was a stack of yellowed hand-typed pages bound by some plastic rings and fraying at the edge. David suspected it was a retyping of some older book because a number of the passages looked familiar.

“What the hell is that?” Jack crouched down next to David staring at the book in his hands.

David looked down and realized it wasn’t in English. “Old Slavonic. It’s the first written Slavic language.”

“And you speak it?” Race set down the wedding album he’d been looking through and leaned over to look at the book too.

“I don’t think anyone speaks it, outside of maybe some Russian churches. But I can read it. It was the first language our ancestors,” David gestured between Race and himself, “ever used to write things down.”

Jack leaned closer. “So do all,” he looked around to make sure the hall was empty, “werewolves read it?”

“No, but most packs have someone who can, usually also the person who keeps all the old books.”

“So lemme guess. You want to be that guy.” Jack was smiling at him as he said it.

David shrugged and paged through the book. It was at least proof that Race’s parents had been oborotni. It had been written in 1899, so unless there was something useful scribbled in the margins it wouldn’t be much help. David flipped the pages but didn’t see any notes, but there was a single passage, highlighted in bright pink. David translated it out loud, “When the new moon came the lions allied with the sea devils, and they attacked us from the forests and the coast.”

“What’s that?” Race leaned over to look at the book in David’s hands.

“It’s a history of oborotni in America, that passage is highlighted.” David showed the passage to Race.

“Lions?” Jack leaned over to take another look.

“There isn’t an Old Slavonic word for jaguar.”

“But there is for lion?”

Race smacked the side of Jack’s head. “Of course there is, they invented it to translate the bible.”

Jack rubbed the side of his head and glared at Race. “Sorry not all of us can be a genius like you.”

Race turned his nose up. “You’re forgiven.”

Jack grumbled under his breath but didn’t say anything. He grabbed a book off the top of David’s stack and sat down against the wall beside him. On the far side of Race, David noticed. The three sat in silence apart from the ruffling of pages. Race was lost in his parents’ wedding album. Jack sorted books, paging through the few in English and stacking the rest next to David. David found a handwritten copy of  _ Oborotney _ , considered the oldest history of his kind, and another book of typed pages in what he guessed was Italian. He didn’t speak Italian, but his Spanish was decent enough for him to tell it was a collection of myths about the naga, mostly of Vedic origin. There weren’t any notes or highlights in it, so he set it aside.

Jack picked it up and flipped through it. “You read Italian too?”

David shook his head. “No, but I know enough Spanish to muddle through.”

“Italian?” Race reached towards the book in Jack’s hands making grasping motions with his hands.

“ _ You speak Italian? _ ” David asked in Spanish.

“ _ My mother raised me with it. I forgot most of it in foster care, but picked it up again in high school. _ ” Race responded in Italian. “ _ I bet this is driving Jack crazy? _ ”

“Hey, I may not have gotten the best grades in Spanish,” Jack switched to slow Spanish, ” _ but I can tell when someone’s talking about me. _ ”

David laughed at the look on Race’s face and reached for another book. He flipped it open and a piece of paper fell out. Jack snatched it off the floor and ran it through his fingers before taking a good look at it. He handed it to David, who accepted it. It felt strange, he ran his fingers over it. “It’s parchment.” He tested it with his fingers and found it brittle. “Old parchment.” At his best estimate, it was five inches by eight inches. He held it up to the light, one side was torn, it looked like it had been torn out of a book. There was some sort of text on both sides, written in black ink, but it wasn’t any alphabet David recognized. One side of the page was dominated by a sketch of the North Atlantic in black ink and crossed over with geometric shapes in red and blue inks. He handed it back to Jack and flipped the book it fell out of open. It was a journal written in Italian. The handwriting was neat but cramped. David flipped to the back, the last entry was dated June 21, 2004. “Race.” David waited until he had the other boy’s attention. “You should be the first to read this.” He handed it over. Race looked confused as he took the book, but he looked down at the page and comprehension dawned on his face.

“What is it?” Jack asked.

“A journal. His mother’s I think.” David said.

Jack’s eyes widened and he nodded. He looked back down at the page in his hand, turning it over in his hands and studying it. “No brush strokes.” David looked over at him and raised an eyebrow. Jack moved closer and positioned the page between them. “Look. These letters or whatever,” Jack traced some of them with his finger, “they’re a mix of thick and thin lines, with smooth transitions between them. No pen I ever seen could do that, but there are no brush strokes either.”

David squinted down at the characters. They weren’t any language he’d ever seen, he knew that much, but couldn’t see what Jack was talking about. Still, he trusted Jack. “Stamps?”

Jack turned the page to catch the light and examined the sigils. “Maybe, but who makes a stamp for every letter?” He moved his finger over the page. “And none of these repeat. That’s a lot of letters.”

“Probably logograms,” David said, but Jack just looked at him. “Like Chinese.”

“Please tell me you don’t speak Chinese.”

David started to answer but was cut off by Race. “So my parents grabbed that page out of a book during a fight in the basement of some abandoned building on the docks in Red Hook”

“Red Hook?” David looked at Jack.

“It’s in Brooklyn,” Jack said.

“Hey, I’m talkin’ here.” Race glared them both into silence before continuing, “It says they interrupted a ritual?” He paused to look at David. David made a face but motioned for him to continue. “It was only them and some guy named Harold left in the city, and Harold was killed by some sort of… fish creature?”

David shrugged. “I have no idea, except,” he picked up the first book he’d looked through and flipped to the highlighting, ”someone must have thought they were the same as the sea devils in this passage.”

“So, Racer’s parents were killed by sea monsters?” Jack asked.

Race turned pages in the journal, but all the rest were blank. “It’s the last entry.” He flipped back to the last page with writing. “The date is the summer solstice, right?”

David pulled at his phone and googled it. “The day after that year.”

“So the ritual was on the summer solstice then?” Jack flipped the parchment page over in his hands again. “So you said magic is real, so were they actually doing magic in this ritual then?”

“If they were in touch with one of these sea devils, then probably, yeah,” David said.

Race closed his mother’s journal and set it down on the stack. “Okay, so then we go down to Red Hook and start poking around the waterfront.”

“Racer, it’s been 14 years,” Jack said.

Race frown. “You got any other leads? Besides, they think they won, so why wouldn’t they still be there?”

David tapped on his phone, pulling up a map of the area. “It’s not a small area to have to search, but it’s probably doable. They might have been forced to move on, though, what’re the odds of somewhere staying abandoned for this long?”

“Right, so we go look.” Race stood up.

David stood up and blocked Race from going anywhere. “No.”

“Why not?” Race glared at him.

“What do you plan on doing if we find them?”

“Getting revenge for my parents.”

“Race,” David put his hand on Race’s shoulder, “I’m not going to pretend I understand what you’re feeling, and I’m not going to give you some bullshit about ‘Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot that it do singe yourself.’ You need to think about this, though. I don’t know anything about your parents or this Harold, but I know they were all better trained in combat than you, and they lost. There’s only two of us, and you can’t even control your changes yet.”

A hand landed on David’s shoulder. “Three.”

David looked over his shoulder at Jack. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

Jack nodded.


	11. Gauze and Skittles

They packed the storage unit back up and left. Race kept his baby book, his parents’ wedding album, and his mother’s journal. Davey took a handwritten book and the typed book with the highlighted passage, into which he tucked the strange parchment page. On the way back to the dorm they stopped at a drugstore, the same one Jack had cleared out of burn creams two days before. Davey picked up some rolls of gauze and medical tape. Race bought all the Skittles.

After they left the store Jack motioned at the two bags Davey was carrying. “What’s all that for?”

“Because we can’t legally buy booze so I’m going to eat all the sugar.” Race said.

Jack slapped the side of Race’s head while still looking at Davey.

Davey glanced around but seemed to decide it was safe enough. “For the bite.”

Jack smirked. Trust Davey to be the only werewolf who’d bite someone and then treat the wound. “What, no disinfectant?”

Davey shook his head. “That’s not something you’ll have to worry about anymore.”

Jack stopped. Davey grabbed his hand and he allowed himself to be pulled along behind Davey and Race. He’d agreed to become a werewolf, he knew what that meant, but somehow everything he’d be immune to hadn’t quite sunk in yet. His eyes drifted from his hand, held in Davey’s, to the other boy’s side, and he thought of the burn still covered by his shirt. He tried to think if he owned anything silver. He didn’t think so. He’d always avoided any personal jewelry because he didn’t want to risk hurting Race.

Before he knew it, the three of them were walking into the dorm. Davey was still holding his hand. The skin on Davey’s hand was always rougher than Jack expected, but the warmth was reassuring. He’d made his decision, and he wasn’t going to back out now. Race needed to know what happened to his parents, and if he wanted to help, Jack needed to do this. They crowded in the elevator with some other students and rode up in silence. It was after five by the time they got back to their dorm room.

“So,” Jack paused trying to think how to word it, “when are we...?”

Davey handed Race the bags of gauze and Skittles. “Later tonight. I should do my homework first, and so should you. We should eat first, too, I’ll order some pizza?”

Tonight. Jack ran the word over and over in his mind. Davey nudged him and he realized he’d been asked a question. “Oh, yeah. Pizza is fine.”

Davey pulled Jack close and leaned down, resting their foreheads together. “Try not to worry about it. You can still change your mind if you want to.” Davey ran a hand through the hair on the side of Jack’s head and gave him a gentle kiss before pulling back.

Jack swallowed and nodded. He followed Race into his room and heard Davey opening the door to his room behind him.

Jack lay down on his bed and listened to Race rip into one of his bags of Skittles. He tried to relax, but couldn’t. He pulled his backpack out from under his bed and shoved the dirty clothes it brought with it back under the bed. He pulled out his math book and started working on homework, trying to use his nervous energy for something productive.

Davey came in with three boxes of pizza followed by Spot. Jack was hungry, but at the same time wasn’t sure he could keep anything down. He shoved his homework aside and sat down on the floor. Davey joined him and Spot sat down on Jack’s now-empty bed. Jack shot his brother a glare, but Spot only had eyes for Race, who was busy trying to pile half of a meat lover's pizza onto a napkin. Jack turned his attention back to Davey, who was succeeding in piling the other half of the meat lover’s pizza onto a napkin.

“So what’d you three idiots do today?” Spot asked.

Race glanced at Davey before answering. “Dad told me about a storage locker with my birth parents’ things. We went to dig through it.”

Spot frowned. “I woulda helped you with that.”

Race looked confused but then shrugged. “You weren’t here when we were leaving.”

Spot’s frown deepened and he looked down at his hands. He slid down onto the floor and reached for one of the pizza boxes.

Jack met Race’s eyes and then looked at Spot. He looked back at Race and then at Spot again. Race just looked confused. Jack resisted the urge to bury his face in his palm by grabbing a slice of pizza. He looked over at Davey who had covered his face with his hand. When Davey pulled the hand away, their eyes met.

Davey mouthed a single word, ‘hopeless.’

Jack nodded and took a bite of his pizza. Watching Race and his brother being idiots had distracted him from his nerves enough to settle his stomach.

Davey and Spot left after dinner and Jack tried to work on more homework. It was just after ten that night when Davey knocked on the door to their room and let himself back in. He took a long look at Jack. “Do you still want to do this?”

Jack looked at Race.

Race shrugged.

Jack looked back at Davey, but he was holding his face expressionless. Jack couldn’t tell what he wanted. Jack met Davey’s eyes and nodded.

“Okay.” Davey’s eyes flicked to the side. “Race, get the gauze.” His eyes returned to Jack’s. ‘Where do you want me to…?”

“I thought we were just going to do it in the room here?”

David chuckled. “I meant, this is going to leave some… distinctive scars, the last you’ll ever get, where do you want them?”

“Oh.” Jack sat down on his bed and thought about it. It should be someplace clothing would hide, someplace a swimsuit would hide for that matter. That narrowed his choices down a bit. “The inner thigh, I guess?” He blushed. It was a good thing he and Davey had already been intimate. He noticed Davey was fighting down a blush.

“Hang on.” Race interrupted whatever moment they’d been having and flipped his laptop open.

Jack shook his head and moved to look over Race’s shoulder. “What?”

Race pulled up a picture of Wikipedia and spun his laptop around so Davey could see. “That’s close to the femoral artery. Are you going to be biting hard enough to hit it?”

Davey frowned and took the laptop from Race. His eyes scrunched up as he studied the image on the screen. He reached down with one hand and ran it up his thigh, pausing near the top to probe with his fingers. Davey looked up at Jack. “Maybe we should do the outside of the thigh?”

“Fine, guess I’ll never wear a speedo again,” Jack said.

“Please tell me you don’t own any,” Davey said.

Race snatched his laptop back from Davey. “Just because neither of you looks good in them.”

“Davey would look better in one than you do.”

“In your dreams, Kelly.”

“Settle down, children.” Davey pulled a small leatherbound notebook from his pocket. “So, normally, you may not change until as long as the third moon after the bite.” Race stood up and started to say something, but Davey held a hand up to stop him. “I said, ‘normally.’ There’s a simple ritual I can do that will make sure you change on Monday.”

“Monday? I thought the full moon started tomorrow?” Jack asked.

“First changes are always when the moon is at its height.”

“Wait, you’re going to do an actual fucking spell?” Race reached toward the notebook in Davey’s hand and made grasping gestures.

“Later, Race.”

“But, Daves.”

“Later.”

“Hey, you said you’d never done any magic!” Race pointed his finger at Davey.

“Yeah, I did, and if either of you ever meets my parents, you will not speak a word of this.” David focused on Race. “You can stay and watch me do it, or you can go keep Sean company.”

Race frowned but sat back down.

“Unwrap the gauze.” Davey looked at Jack, and a blush rose into his cheeks again, followed by a wicked smirk. “Time to get naked, loverboy.”

Jack felt his mouth drop open, but no sound came out. That was not something he had expected Davey fucking Jacobs to say. He shook his head to clear it and met Davey’s smirk with a smirk of his own. He reached down and pulled off his shirt.

Race threw a pillow at Jack’s head. “Can you guys not flirt in front of the single guy?”

“If you’d get off your furry butt and ask my brother—”

“You know I can’t do that.”

Jack and Davey’s eyes met again. Davey rolled his eyes and Jack laughed, then unbuttoned his pants. He stood up and pulled his pants and underwear down.

Race gasped. “My virgin eyes!”

Jack threw the pillow back at Race. “First, no part of your anatomy is virginal. Second, everyone in this room has seen everyone else in this room naked before.”

Race clamped his hands over his ears. “My virgin ears!”

Davey rolled his eyes and started pulling off his clothes. “Keep it down, we don’t need Sean getting suspicious. I just managed to convince him that I’m not dating you.”

Race looked confused. “Why would he care if you’re dating me?”

Jack stifled a groan, instead grabbing a tarp from the closet floor. It was to keep paint off the floor, but he figured it should work fine for blood too. He tried not to think about why he would need it for that.

“He didn’t want to think I was that dumb,” Davey said, “but then I went and started dating Jack.”

“Hey.” Jack turned around and unrolled the tarp onto the floor. “That’s hurtful.” He looked at Davey and then had to tear his eyes away from his naked body to look at his face. This was not the time. “True, but hurtful.” Davey’s eyes were fixed on Jack for a moment before he shook himself and turned around. Jack smirked. It seemed his nudity was giving Davey as much trouble as Davey’s was him.

“You should take some ibuprofen. Might as well let it kick in before he bites you.” Race tossed a bottle at Jack, who fumbled but managed to catch it.

“Good idea.” Davey was bent over his small notebook rehearsing some gestures with his hands.

Jack popped the top off the bottle and took two. He tossed it onto Race’s bed and moved to examine the burn on Davey’s side. “Damn, this doesn’t look good, Davey,” Jack whispered. The skin was blackened and peeling off.

Davey kept studying the book. “Pay attention in chemistry.”

“No shit.”

“What are we looking at?” Race came over to see what they were looking at. “Holy shit. What happened?”

Davey rolled his eyes. “We were in the chem lab, I startled my lab partner, and he spilled some silver nitrate on me.”

Race hissed and pulled out his phone.

“You’re taking a picture?” Davey asked.

“No, I need the flashlight to get a better look at this. It does look really bad.”

“It’s only the dead skin starting to fall off. Once everything the silver burned is gone it’ll heal up fast.”

“Oh, only the dead skin.” Jack rolled his eyes. “Then why does it look wet?”

“Because I’ve been using that burn gel you bought me to numb it. Which I still need to pay you back for.”

Jack held up his hand. “You don’t owe me anything, Davey.” he saw Davey open his mouth to protest and held up his hand. “Now let’s get this bite over with.”

“Right. Go lie down on the tarp. You want it on the outside of your thigh?”

Jack moved and lay down on his left side. “How about the hip?” He put his hand where he meant. “Doesn’t feel like there’s any veins there and underwear will cover it.”

David nodded, put his small notebook on the chair, on top of his folded clothes. He crossed the room and stood over Jack. “Ready?”

Jack nodded.

Davey closed his eyes. Hair appeared, growing from his skin, spreading from his waist up. Jack had seen Race change plenty of times but had only seen Davey change a hand before. Jack flinched as the popping sounds started, even though he knew Davey wasn’t in any pain. The skin on Davey’s face started stretching, and Jack could see broken bits of bone moving beneath it. Jack was grateful when the fur started spreading over Davey’s face, covering his still forming muzzle. The changes slowed and Davey opened his eyes and looked down. Their eyes locked together, and Jack would later swear that he could feel the nervousness leaving his body. Davey’s eyes were bigger, and the brown had an orange glint in the light, but he could still see Davey in them. See Davey seeking permission.

Jack nodded.

Davey knelt beside him. He placed his clawed but otherwise human hand just above Jack’s hip bone. Jack could almost count the teeth when Davey opened his mouth. Davey bent forward, his teeth grazing the skin of Jack’s hip but not yet breaking it, and he froze.

Jack put his hand on top of Davey’s. “I’m ready.”

Davey closed his mouth. Sharp teeth pierced through Jack’s skin. He bit hard enough to break the skin, but no harder. It didn’t hurt as much as he’d expected. Davey opened his mouth and pulled back.

Jack gasped. His eyes watered. The pain he’d expected had arrived. He focused on Davey.

Davey’s bones were popping again, and the fur was vanishing back into his body, like watching a timelapse video of hair growth in reverse. With a claw from his right hand, Davey ripped open the palm of his left hand and held the claw in the wound, allowing blood to pool in his palm. Davey pulled the claw out, and they shrank into fingernails. He moved his cupped hand to Jack’s back and let the blood seeping from Jack’s wound mix with his own.

Davey dipped his finger in their mixed blood and traced a character on Jack’s hip, in the middle of his teeth marks. He dipped his finger in the blood again. He made a circle around the character, and then a square around the circle. He held the hand holding their blood above the sigil and held his other hand above that, fingers folded in an uncomfortable-looking gesture.

“ _Yupozahflah yanah’yar ahahzahf._ ”

Davey switched the positions of his hands.

“ _Yupozahflah yanah’yar ahahzahf._ ”

Flickers of green light formed around the sigil painted on Jack’s hip. It itched. Jack tried not to be worried by the surprise that showed in Davey’s eyes while Davey raised both hands over his head.

“ _Yupozahflah yanah’yar ahahzahf._ ”

The sigil’s foxfire-like light flared, the itching flashed through Jack’s whole body causing him to shudder, and both the bloody sigil and the blood cupped in Davey’s palm vanished.

Davey looked down at Jack, concern filling his eyes.

Jack nodded, trying to show he was fine

“Holy shit!” Race shouted.

Davey turned and glared at Race. “Quiet, you’ll wake Sean.”

Race lowered his voice to a loud whisper. “You just did magic. Fucking magic.” he looked at Jack. “Did you fucking see that? Did you?”

Jack tried to sit up, but that pulled at the bite wound and more blood oozed out.

Davey whacked Race in the chest, and Race handed the gauze and tape to him. He wiped the blood from around the wound, but more welled out. “Try not to move, we need to let it scab up.” He turned to look at Race again. “Right?”

“Why are you asking me?” 

“You’re the bio major.”

“You’re the professional werewolf.”

“We’re seriously trusting my life to Racetrack?”

Race kicked Jack’s leg. “Hey, I’ve gotten you out of plenty of things.”

Jack kicked him back. “Yeah, after getting me into them in the first place.”

“I don’t have to take this abuse. I’m going to go pine after Spot.” Race turned and walked out of the room.

Davey spent the night with Jack, though their activities were limited by the bite on his hip. They slept late Sunday morning. Davey changed the gauze bandage on his hip, and then they spent an hour making out like the teenagers they were.

Race banged back into the room, interrupting them, and collapsed on his bed. “I get that youse need your alone time, but I cannot crash in your room again. It is killing me.”

Davey pulled away from Jack’s lips and rolled his eyes. “The beds are exactly the same, Race. Besides, my sheets are cleaner.”

Jack stifled a laugh and smiled at Davey. He leaned up and placed a light kiss on his lips.

“Rude.” Race tossed a dirty shirt across the room at them. “I give you the use of my room for a night, and you mock my pain.”

Davey moved off of Jack and sat up, tossing the shirt onto the floor near Race’s bed.

“Well, I been telling you to just ask my brother out.” Jack sat up. “So if you’re going to ignore my good advice, then no matter how grateful I am for you giving us our privacy, I am absolutely going to mock your pain.”

“Thank you for letting us have the room, Race.” Davey kissed Jack on the cheek and stood up. “I’m going to go take a shower.”

That night, when Davey was coaching Race through his transformation, he started Jack on some breathing exercises and poses. Jack found them soothing but didn’t see the connection between what looked like yoga and being a werewolf.

For the first time, it wasn’t Race’s sudden gasp that let Jack know the instant of moonrise, it was his own. He itched, everywhere. He tried to focus on his breathing but found himself scratching at the scabs on his hip. His stomach rumbled and despite having a full dinner, he realized he was starving. He gave up on Davey’s yoga and scratched more. He’d never been out of the city, but he imagined this must be what poison ivy was like. His stomach rumbled again.

“Davey?” Jack didn’t think he was whining but knew Race and Davey would disagree. “Why am I starving?”

Davey opened one eye. “That’s normal. Why don’t you order some pizzas?”

“How do you deal with this itching? It’s like I’m a mummy wrapped in wool or something.” Jack tried to scratch his own back and find his phone at the same time.

“Have you ever even worn wool?”

“Yes. Ma got me a nice sweater.” He started scratching his back again and moved his hands to his chest. “Sure never felt like this though.”

“If it doesn’t feel like wool, why did you bring it up?”

“Shut up. Besides, shouldn’t we be quiet so Racer there can concentrate?”

“One, you started it. Two, he needs to learn to maintain focus despite distractions.”

“Look, I known him nine years. He ain’t ever going to learn that.”

“If you both don’t shut up, I’m going to give in and take some bites out of both of youse.” Race said.

“You’re always so touchy around the full moon.”

“Bitch, I am so looking forward to—” Race froze halfway through his sentence and Jack could tell he was fighting to hold the transformation down.

“I’ll just step out and order some pizza.” Jack slipped his hand under his waistband to scratch at the scabs from Davey’s bite and exited the room. He knocked on the door to Spot and Davey’s room and opened the door without waiting for an answer. “I’m ordering pizza, want any?”

Spot glared at him from his bed. “Again? We just did that yesterday. Shit ain’t good for you.”

“So that’s a no then?”

“Yeah. Enjoy your freshman fifteen though.”

Jack closed the door and called the nearest Domino’s while trying to scratch the middle of his back.


	12. First Times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: There's a pretty brutal/bloody transformation scene about halfway through this chapter.

David was twelve the first time he was attacked by a werewolf. His twin sister had just completed her first change and seemed to think that knocking him to the ground was the funniest game ever. He didn’t agree. He couldn’t even do anything about it, his parents were so proud of her. He knew it didn’t mean anything. Girls always changed younger than boys. He knew that. But she was his twin, and it wasn’t fair that she changed first. That their parents were proud of her and not of him.

After being tackled for the third time, David went inside, taking his four-year-old brother and leaving his parents to coo over Sarah. There was no reason for him to be running around outside when it was still over 100, even after sunset. He found Les’s sippy cup and filled it with some cold juice. He popped an educational DVD into his parents' old player, dropped his brother in front of it, and collapsed onto the couch to sulk.

There was a howl from the backyard.

David rolled his eyes and found himself looking at the entrance to his parents’ study. He wasn’t allowed in there alone, but his parents would be outside for a while. He stood and approached the door. He looked out towards the backyard, but there was no sign of his parents, and Les was still hypnotized by an old episode of _Blue’s Clues_. He opened the door into the study and beat a hasty path to the bookcase against the far wall.

He looked past the books on the lower shelves that his mother used to teach them history. David knew the more interesting books were kept on the upper shelves. He wasn’t quite sure when he’d gotten tall enough to reach them, but he was now. His father hated these books, his mother only kept them because it was her duty to keep them, ‘just in case’. He wasn’t sure what she was keeping them in case of. The most interesting books weren’t even kept in plain sight. He pulled a large book out from the top shelf and reached into the space behind it. He pulled a slim volume bound in old leather out and opened it with care. There wasn’t a title page and it was in German. David frowned and replaced both the smaller book and the book that had concealed it back. He pulled out another large book and reached behind it. This book was thicker and wrapped in thin dappled pale leather. He resisted the urge to drop it when he realized what it was bound in, and shoved it back where he’d found it. Maybe his dad was right about these books. He repeated his actions a third time, pulling out a book that looked a bit more modern. It was from the 20th century at least. A small hardcover, _Liber Ivonis_ was written along the spine. He flipped it open, saw a page of Latin text, and smiled.

He put the book that had been concealing his find back and hid the smaller book under his shirt. He snuck it under his bed, and then went back to the living room. He wouldn’t be able to keep the book for long before his parents noticed. Another howl came from the yard, and he knew Sarah wouldn’t be going to school the next morning but he would still have to. He’d take the book with him, scan as much of it as he could in the computer lab, and sneak it back where he’d found it the next night.

David was fourteen the first time he cast a spell. It was his fourth time trying. He’d changed the second full moon after his and Sarah’s thirteenth birthday. His parents had been just as proud of him as they had been of Sarah, and as he knew they’d be for Les, but he’d first tried this spell when he was still bitter. He couldn’t think of any reason he’d ever need it, but now it was the principle of the thing.

He spent a month preparing before his first attempt, two months before his second attempt, and five months before his third. He’d spent a year preparing this time. He’d chosen the date and the location, the garage of a house down the block that had been abandoned since 2008, before he even started. He’d read every book on math, astronomy, and astrology he could find. He spent three months calculating the angles needed by the ritual circle, weeks practicing the writing of each sigil, and longer than he was comfortable admitting working on the pronunciation.

It was the night of the half-moon and his parents thought he was studying at a friend’s house. He held a flashlight in his mouth as he marked the sigils out in chalk first, checking a compass while he went. The circle had to be aligned at the exact point where the star Celaeno would rise. He filled each outline with drops of his own blood, waited for it to dry, and wiped away the chalk. He traced out the circles and lines connecting them and linked them each to the wooden bowl in the center of the circle. He checked his work against his notes after each mark and reviewed them all twice more before moving on. David pulled a plastic bag out of his backpack and upended it over the wooden bowl. A silver whistle he’d bought on Etsy and spent months wearing gloves to carve with sigils of its own fell in. It was the fifth one he’d bought. He wasn’t very good at art in the first place, and trying to etch metal while wearing thick gloves, to keep it from burning you, didn’t help him any. He cut his hand and filled the bowl with more of his blood, careful not to let any splash-out and disrupt the drying patterns. He realized it would have been better to fill the bowl first and trace out the circle second, but it was too late now.

He checked the timer on his phone, twenty minutes until star-rise. He fished a bag of moth cocoons he’d taken from the science lab and a chunk of petrified wood he’d gotten on a family trip to the Petrified Forest. He felt guilty about stealing from a national park, but hand-gathered resources were supposed to be best. He dropped the petrified wood on one of the sigils. He picked through the cocoons, trying to select the best, not that he was sure what would make one better than another. In the end, he chose the biggest and set it down on another sigil.

He checked the timer on his phone, ten minutes until star-rise. He pulled his notes out and checked his work a third time. Everything looked right. He checked a fourth time, pulling out his compass and a protractor to confirm he had the angles correct, not that there was enough time before star-rise to correct any mistakes.

The first alarm he’d set on his phone went off. Two minutes until star-rise. He pulled the flashlight out of his mouth and propped it up on the hot water heater that shared the garage with him. He put the notes detailing the diagram next to the flashlight and grabbed the page with the words. He held it in one hand. He held his phone in the other hand, his eyes fixed on the countdown. With twenty seconds left he set the phone down on the ground where he could still watch it and took the piece of notebook paper, which he’d written the words out phonetically on, in both hands, holding it in the beam of light.

The second alarm on his phone went off. Star-rise.

“ _Tharanak ahazath’bthnk li’hee._ ” David spoke the words he’d practiced for months. The distant sounds of traffic and nearer sounds of birds and crickets vanished. Silence filled the space around him. His phone’s screen went dark and the beam of light from the flashlight flickered. David swallowed. He felt like he was being watched.

“ _Tharanak ahazath’bthnk li’hee._ ” David repeated. The light from the flashlight went out. It was pitch black. Even without the flashlight, there should have been some light creeping around the garage door from the street light outside. His spine crawled, it felt like there was something lurking in the darkness, just out of his reach.

“ _Tharanak ahazath’bthnk li’hee._ ” Even without the crutch of the paper and fighting down a rising panic, David spoke the words with ease. Points of blue-white light appeared in the darkness, twinkling along the lines and sigils of the diagram. David stifled a gasp, the instructions had been clear that making any other noise during the ritual could cause a disaster. Soon the whole symbol glittered in the darkness, but he felt like there was something waiting for him just outside the ring of light.

“ _Tharanak ahazath’bthnk li’hee._ ” David spoke the words for the fourth and final time. The light flared and he forced his eyes shut. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there with his eyes shut, but he didn’t open them until he felt the lurking presence leave and the distant sounds of traffic returned.

David opened his eyes. It was still dark, but light crept around the garage door. He felt around until he found the flashlight where he’d left it, and flicked the switch a few times. It was dead. He felt around on the floor for his phone, it wouldn’t turn back on either. He hoped the battery was just dead. He felt around where the circle had been and found a pile of ash, the remains of the wooden bowl he’d used. He sifted through the ashes until he saw a glint of light reflected off something. He reached for it and snatched his finger back, burned. In his haste, he’d forgotten it was silver. He groped around for his backpack and found a plastic bag. David used it to pick the whistle up.

He gathered up what he could find, careful to find all his notes, into his backpack, and he threw it over his shoulder. He kicked the pile of ashes around to disguise it, but he’d have to come back tomorrow to finish cleaning the place up. Then he’d have to find some way to test the whistle, which meant he was going to have to tell Sarah what he’d been doing.

“You did what?” Sarah’s voice had jumped an octave during the course of her question and David flinched. At least she had the good sense not to shout. He did not need their mom hearing.

“I enchanted a whistle,” David said. “Well, I think I did. That’s why I need your help.”

“You enchanted a whistle.” She glared at him. “And how did you learn how to do that?” Her voice was calmer, but her eyes flashed with anger. Actually flashed. She was angry enough that she was starting to shift and her eyes had changed enough to show eyeshine.

“Deep breaths, Sarah. You’re losing control,” David said.

David hadn’t thought she could look angrier, but she managed it. She was grinding her teeth together as they started to elongate.

The door banged open. “David, I can’t beat Olympia, can you do it for me?”

“Not now, Les.” David and his twin said in perfect unison.

Les froze, 3DS in hand, and backed out of the room.

David closed the door and turned to face his twin again. It looked like the interruption had distracted her enough that she wasn’t shifting anymore. “Okay, so I may have borrowed a book from the study.”

“Borrowed?”

“Yes, borrowed.” David rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. “After scanning all the pages.”

“David!”

“What, Sarah?” He faced her again. “What’s so bad about that?”

“You know how Dad feels about,” Sarah paused and her eyes darted around the room before she finished in a whisper, “magic.”

David rolled his eyes. “Dad’s being ridiculous and I was careful.”

“Dad’s being ridiculous?”

“Oh, don’t pretend you’re going to take his side now. Last week when he wouldn’t let you go to the movies with Bill, you swore you’d never speak to him again.” 

“There’s a difference between forbidding me to date and forbidding you to break the rules of physics, David.”

David took a deep breath to calm himself. “Look. You’re just mad because I didn’t include you.”

“Of course I am. How could you go and cast a spell without me.”

“I’m sorry, but I had a year where you got to run around with Mom and Dad on the full moons and I got to babysit Les. I needed something to pass the time.”

Sarah glared at him, and he thought she was going to start yelling when she started shaking, but then the corner of her mouth started to creep up, and he realized she was trying to stifle a laugh. “Only you would think of reading a grimoire in… what… French?”

“Latin,” David mumbled.

“Of course. Only you would think reading a fucking Latin grimoire was a good way to ‘pass the time.’” She couldn’t contain herself anymore and fell back onto her bed, laughing.

David tried to glare at her, but couldn’t put any real fire behind it. He waited for her laughter to die down. “So will you help me?”

“What do you need me to do?”

“You’ll change, and I’ll blow the whistle. If I did everything right, it should force you back into human form.”

“Nuh-uh. You change and I’ll blow the whistle,” Sarah said.

David rolled his eyes but knew that she knew that she’d won.

“Okay, let’s go to your secret lair.”

“It’s not a secret lair, it’s just the Millers’ old house.”

“In which you have a secret lair.”

“Fine.”

They told their mother they were going to a friend’s house to study. David led her down the block and onto the path along a canal.

“This isn’t the way to the Millers, Day.”

“We can’t exactly go in the front door, Saz. We need to hop the wall.”

Sarah rolled her eyes but followed him.

When they were behind the abandoned house he knelt down and offered his sister a boost up, which she accepted, and then climbed over the wall into the overgrown backyard. David held his finger to his lips and motioned her toward the glass sliding door. He left it locked, but if you knew the trick it lifted open anyway. He motioned his sister inside, and slid the door closed behind them. He walked into the garage, still strewn with ashes he hadn’t been able to clear away in the dark.

Sarah walked in behind him and looked around. “You always leave your secret lair so dirty? Mom would be ashamed.”

“After she was done being horrified, and no, I don’t. The ritual drained my cell phone and flashlight batteries.”

“Did your Latin book mention that?”

“No, but I’m pretty sure it predates electricity, so.” David shrugged.

She walked around the garage and frowned at the ashes. “Let’s do this in the house, otherwise you’re going to get covered in ash.” She turned and walked back into the house.

David followed her to the master bedroom, set his backpack against the wall, and pulled out the plastic bag containing the whistle. He held it out to Sarah.

She took the bag and looked at the whistle through the plastic. “You forgot to mention it was silver.”

David raised an eyebrow. “If you don’t want to blow it, you can be the one to change.”

“Not a chance. You get to be the were-guinea-pig today.” Sarah pulled some lip balm from somewhere and started slathering it on her lips.

David took off his clothes, folded them, and set them on the floor next to his backpack. He moved to the center of the room and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and took another deep breath while reaching for the familiar itch. He drew it up his spine like a cloak and felt his fur spread as it went. It was only just after the half-moon, so it took him almost five uncomfortable minutes to complete the change.

He shook his body from head to tail and paced around the room sniffing. It smelled of dust, the scent of the Millers undetectable after six years. There was something though. He sniffed around the room again, it was concentrated in the corner. He padded over and took a deep breath. David got a snout full of the scent of cat pee. He sneezed and pawed at his nose.

Sarah laughed and put the lip balm away. “Alright. Let’s get this show on the road.” She opened the bag but used it to hold the silver whistle. She eyed it with caution. “If this burns me, and mom asks about it, I’m ratting you out.”

David sighed but went to the middle of the room.

Sarah took a deep breath, held the whistle up to her thickly coated lips, and then blew into it. The noise was too high pitched for most humans to hear, but it cut through David’s ears like a knife. He saw the whistle fall from Sarah’s hand and bounce on the dusty carpet as she clutched at her own ears. The sound still echoed in his ears, reverberating through his skull.

David staggered, the sound rising in pitch and volume even though the whistle was lying silently on the ground. He felt his body start to reshape, but unlike every other time he’d changed, it hurt. David felt the pain of each bone shattering. He felt each shard of bone ripping through his muscles as they moved into new positions. He wanted to howl or to scream but he couldn’t even breathe as the changes ripped through his throat and lungs. His whole body spasmed, every nerve firing and every muscle twisting with convulsions. Ribs shattered, ripping into his lungs and other internal organs. Blood poured from David’s mouth onto the carpet, he couldn’t tell if he was coughing it up or vomiting it. He heard Sarah making similar sounds of misery from nearby, but couldn’t even begin to understand why. He could feel each rib regenerate and shatter again. He tried again to scream but only a bloody gurgle escaped.

He couldn’t tell if he’d been writhing for minutes, hours, or days when the pain finally stopped. David was lying naked on the blood-soaked carpet.

“What the hell was that?” Sarah’s voice came from the floor to his right.

David raised a sticky, blood coated hand in front of his face. “Well at least it worked.”

“Did you leave out the part where it hurts like hell?”

“That wasn’t mentioned in the description. Maybe I fucked something up?” David considered rolling over to face her but decided to let his arm fall back into the pool of his blood. “Wait, it hurt you too?”

She grunted, he was pretty sure she was sitting up. “Well, I didn’t bleed out like you did. How did you bleed that much?”

“I’m honestly not sure. The dark side of regeneration I guess.”

“Does the water still work in this place? We need to get you cleaned up. Can’t go anywhere with you looking like that.”

David managed to pull himself into a sitting position, he was covered in drying, sticky blood. “It’s less than the first time we practiced one-armed combat.”

Sarah made a disgusted sound. “Don’t remind me.” She stood up and headed to the adjoining bathroom. David heard her try the sink, but no water.

“Check the main valve in front of the house, or the water meter,” he suggested.

She nodded and headed towards the door, but stopped just before leaving the master bedroom and turned to look around. “We’ll need to burn this place down, it looks like someone was murdered here.”

David looked down at the bloody carpet. His sister wasn’t wrong. “Maybe I can just rip up the carpeting and go burn that in the desert.”

“Maybe.” She turned back to the door and left the room.

A minute later he heard the sink sputter. He stood up and moved towards the bathroom. David scuffed his blood stained feet on the carpet as he went, hoping not to track blood the whole way. Cleaning was already going to be a nightmare. He made it to the bathtub and climbed in. There was no shower curtain, not that he’d expected to find on in an abandoned house. He was going to get blood everywhere, maybe burning the house down was the best option. David turned on the faucet and immediately pulled the little pin up to divert the water to the showerhead, or where that should have been a shower head. The former owners must have taken it, leaving just an open pipe for the cold water to shoot out of. He sighed and stepped into the stream.

David went over every inch of his body, at least the ones he could see. He was careful to get between his fingers and toes. He had to wait for Sarah to come back to help him with his back. At least it wasn’t winter, so the water coming from under the street wasn’t actually cold. He rinsed through his hair a third time, and then looked himself over. He turned his back to Sarah and looked over his shoulder at her. He waited for her nod before turning the water off.

“Now what?” Sarah asked.

David shook himself down, trying to get off as much water as he could. He headed back into the master bedroom, followed by Sarah, and sidled around the drying bloodstain that was the center of the room. He unzipped his backpack and pulled out his leather pocket notebook and a pencil. He flipped to an empty page and made some quick notes about what he’d felt. He used a simple cipher he’d made as a kid when he went through a phase of wanting to be a spy. It wouldn’t hold up to scrutiny, but it kept nosy parents and siblings away.

“David?” Sarah sounded frustrated.

“Sorry, just had to write down my notes.” He jotted down another line then looked up at his sister. “It hurt you two, what exactly did you feel?”

“Is now really the time to talk about this?”

“It’s important to get everything down while it’s still fresh in our memory.”

“Maybe we could figure out what to do about this,” Sarah gestured at the stain, “first?”

“We’ll burn the house down, like you said.” David held his place with a finger and flipped through a few pages at the beginning of his notes before finding what he was looking for. “I’ve got an orison here that should clean up the blood and start the fire at the same time.” He flipped another page. “Should even end up looking like an electrical fire or lightning strike.”

“Orison?”

“Spell that invokes a god. Supposed to be easier to cast.”

Sarah scoffed at him. “Your solution to messing up one spell is trying another? And this one ‘invokes a god?’” She made air quotes with her fingers as she spoke.

He paused and rubbed at the back of his neck. “It’s not the best idea, but I’m not sure a normal fire will cover up…” he gestured at the stain. “Besides, we’re not sure if I messed up the first spell. Technically, the whistle does work.”

“It felt like I was on fire, Day, and that’s not even considering what you went through.”

David flipped back to his saved page and wrote down her description. “Did the fire seem to spread from anywhere or did it hurt everywhere all at once?”

“I didn’t mean it actually felt like fire.” Sarah let out a long sigh, and David knew he’d won. “Fine, it started as soon as I blew that damned whistle,” she gestured to where it was lying on the carpet. “I couldn’t hear anything, but it felt like my whole skull was resonating with it. Then all my muscles clenched up and I started convulsing. I don’t remember anything after that, except coming to, on the carpet, feeling like I’d run a marathon.”

David copied her down word for word. He closed his notebook, wrapped a rubber band around it, and set it down on top of his backpack. Guessing he was dry enough to put his clothes back on, he grabbed his underwear from where he’d left it, and pulled it on.

Sarah picked the journal up and slipped the rubber band off to page through it. She frowned. “You still don’t trust me?”

“I’m your twin brother, of course I don’t trust you.” David pulled his pants on and reached for his shirt. “Do you trust me?”

“I love you like myself, so no.”

David snorted into the polo shirt he was pulling over his head. “Did anyone see you turn the water on?”

She shook her head. “Not that I saw.”

David sat down to pull his socks and shoes on. Then, he grabbed the strap of his backpack and stood up, throwing it over his shoulders. He reached out towards Sarah, who handed the book back to him. He took a look around the room, then checked the bathroom. “Go check the garage to make sure I didn’t leave anything, then we’ll burn it.”

She nodded and wandered out of the master bedroom.

David flipped the book open and reviewed the spell he was about to cast. He tried not to think about how much the whistle had hurt him. He forced himself to believe that this one would work. The _Liber Ivonis_ insisted that any attempt at working magic would fail if the caster didn’t know they would succeed. The spell was simple enough, in theory, just a few words and an offering of blood, which the carpet now held in abundance, to request a boon from a god of fire. He mouthed the words over and over in silence, careful not to say anything out loud lest he start the fire early.

Sarah came back into the room. “All clear.”

He nodded and mouthed the words one last time before facing her. “Ready?”

“This is a horrible idea, but yes.”

David moved over to the door into the master bedroom to stand next to Sarah and faced the bloody mess of carpeting in the center of the room. He pulled his backpack around and shoved his notebook back in, before zipping it up. He pointed at the middle of the room and recited the words from memory, “ _Ya Fthaggua! Cthoonglui Fthaggua Ktynga n’gha-ghaa fia’l thagn! Ya Fthaggua!_ ”

A flicker of blood-red electricity flickered around his fingers, but nothing else happened.

Sarah cleared her throat behind him.

“Not a word, Saz.” He took a deep breath, reviewed the pronunciation in his head, and tried again. “ _Ya Fthaggua! Cth’nglui Fthaggua Ktynga n’gha-ghaa fia’l thagn! Ya Fthaggua!_ ”

Blood-red light sparkled to life around his hand and arced to the floor like a small bolt of lightning. Everywhere that there was blood erupted into momentarily blue-hot flames before settling into the color of normal fire. The flames spread across the carpet and began licking at the walls.

David felt a tug on his backpack and turned to see Sarah pulling him toward the door. He spun and followed her out of the house, stopping only to lock the back door before helping his sister over the wall again. He jumped the wall as smoke drifted out of the house behind them, and the pair of them ran down the canal path.


	13. Deep Breaths

Jack groaned when his alarm went off Monday morning. Why did he take an 8 am class again? At least the itching had stopped, after keeping him up until 3 am. He was not ready for math. He was not ready for a class with Morris Delancey either. He rolled himself out of bed and stumbled in the direction of the bathroom. At least he’d have it to himself. Spot was the only one of his roommates dumb enough to take an early class, but Spot was only dumb enough to do it two days a week.

He grabbed a quick shower followed by some clothes from under his bed. They stank, but he still hadn’t gotten around to finding the laundry room. He sniffed a paint-splattered t-shirt before pulling it over his head. He wasn’t sure how Race could stand it, especially since he spent the night with that big nose. He grimaced while grabbing his backpack. While riding the elevator he figured he should get Davey to show with the laundry room. Race’s problem with smells was about to be his after all. He wondered if he should have put more thought into becoming a werewolf. Race needed him though. He couldn’t say immortality was a bad incentive either.

His stomach growled. He’d had two whole pizzas just the night before. He had no idea how he could be hungry again but was beginning to understand the way both Race and Davey ate. He had to get to class, he’d have to try to hit a vending machine between his first and second classes and hope that could hold him until lunch.

Jack made it to class and skirted around Morris’s desk to his own. Why the teacher had made a seating chart based on the first day of class he didn’t know. His chem lab was the only other class he had with assigned seating, but at least that made sense. A horrible smell hit his nose like the sewers had backed up all night. He took another breath, there was another smell mixed with it, like the beach at low tide. It was coming from Morris. 

He took a deep sniff in Morris’s direction. “You ever hear of a shower, Delancey?”

Morris turned and glared at him but was prevented from saying anything by the arrival of the professor.

Jack leaned as far from Morris as he could. No one else seemed to have noticed the smell. Jack wondered if this was what Race was always complaining about around the full moon. Jack didn’t learn anything in class, which wasn’t that unusual for him. He spent the whole time breathing through his mouth, which helped a little, but nowhere near enough.

He was first out the door when the professor dismissed them and had never been more grateful that Morris had only followed him the one time. He bought three candy bars from the first vending machine he saw and then ate them on the way to his English class. No one there smelled like they’d spent the night in the sewer, for which Jack was thankful.

He tried not to run to the dining hall, but he was starving again. He wondered if this was a new werewolf thing or if Davey and Race were always this hungry? He hoped it was the former, or else he was going to go broke just trying not to starve. He grabbed three helpings of what was labeled as beef stroganoff and paid for his lunch. He looked around the hall and spotted a familiar eyepatch at one of the tables. Jack walked over to Blink’s table. His ex was sitting next to a curly-haired Latino boy who jumped when Jack set his tray down across from them.

“Afternoon, Blink.” Jack pulled the chair out and sat down.

“Cowboy.” Blink ate a forkful of noodles from his plate.

Jack took a few big bites of his stroganoff. It tasted the same as the casserole, like wet cardboard, but it was satisfying the feeling gnawing at this stomach. He noticed the other boy at the table looking between Jack and Blink in confusion, and he also noticed that Blink didn’t seem inclined to introduce them. Jack set down his fork and held out his hand. “Hey. Name’s Jack.”

The other boy set his fork down, he had two helpings of stroganoff on his own plate and took Jack’s hand in a firm shake. “Nick, but everyone calls me Mush.”

“Mush?” Jack dove back into his food.

“I’m a romantic, what can I say? What about you, Cowboy?”

Jack snorted and rubbed the back of his neck. “I used to tell everyone how I was going to move to Santa Fe and become a cowboy.”

“That’s cute. Must have sucked when you realized they don’t have cowboys anymore.”

Blink laughed. “Careful, I don’t think he’s realized that yet.”

Jack clutched his hand to his chest. “What do you mean they don’t have cowboys anymore?” He laughed and took another bite of his food.

Mush laughed and looked at Blink. “So this guy is your ex?”

“You talk about me, Blink, I’m flattered.” Jack managed to say around the grey meat in his mouth.

“Only to tell him that he’s a better boyfriend than you ever were.”

“Excuse you. I am an amazing boyfriend.” He looked over at Mush, examining him in detail now. Dark, curly hair. brown eyes. He looked like he spent a fair amount of time lifting weights. If Mush wasn’t dating Blink, and Jack wasn’t doing whatever he was doing with Davey, Jack would’ve been interested or would’ve been until he took a deep breath and had to stifle a sneeze. “And at least I don’t smell like an old cat lady. You live in a vet clinic, Mush?”

Mush gave Jack a strange look that he couldn’t interpret.

Blink leaned over to smell his boyfriend. “First, he’s my roommate, so I can assure he doesn’t live with any cats. Second, you need to get your nose checked.”

“Just messing with you. Besides, being a better boyfriend than I was to you is a pretty low bar.” Jack ate another forkful of dry noodles and wet meat, ignoring the glare Mush was sending him.

Blink rolled his eyes. “Why did I ever date you?”

“Limited choices, it was me or Race,” Jack said.

“Even I can see that I made the wrong choice,” Blink said.

Mush laughed.

“Hey, if I wanted to be treated like this, I’d go back to my room and talk to Spot.”

“Spot?” Mush asked.

“His older brother,” Blink said.

“You’re rooming with your brother?” Mush sounded ready to laugh again.

“Not on purpose, we got assigned to the same suite,” Jack said.

“At random?” Mush asked.

Jack shrugged, not liking where the conversation was going. He ate some more of his lunch.

“So he says,” Blink said, “but trust me, there’s no way he didn’t have something to do with it.”

Mush laughed again and smiled at Jack.

Jack chewed another forkful and seethed. He was sick of no one believing him. He knew he’d pulled some shit in high school, but he always needed Crutchie to handle anything with computers, it’s not like he could have done this on his own. His thoughts stopped and his fork froze on the way to his mouth.

“You okay, Jack?” Blink nudged his leg with his boot.

“Fucking Crutchie.”

Blink blinked. “What about your brother?”

“His brother’s name is Crutchie?” Mush looked shocked.

“Yeah, he’s got forearm crutches,” Blink said.

Mush narrowed his eyes and glared at both of them. “And you call him Crutchie?”

Blink dropped his fork and held his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

Jack covered his face with his hands. “Look, I know. But it's what we called him back when we was in foster care, and I ain't proud of being one of the ones who gave him the nickname, but he decided to try and own it.” He pulled his hands away and looked back at Blink. “But he did this to me. Somehow he rigged it so Spot and I would be in the same suite, and he knew everyone would blame me.”

Blink choked back a laugh. “Right. Crutchie is the closest thing there is to an angel.”

“That’s just what he wants you to think. That little shit is devious.”

“Right.” Blink rolled his eyes and picked up his fork.

Jack made it back to his room and thought about calling Crutchie. He wanted to give him a piece of his mind. He also wanted to find out how he did it, but mostly just to yell at him. It was the fact that he wanted to yell at his little brother that made him stop. He couldn’t remember ever yelling at him before, but he was hungry again and everywhere he went stank.

Jack sat down on his bed and tried some of the breathing exercises Davey had shown him. They helped a little, but he knew he wasn’t doing them right. How the hell was he supposed to have learned these already? He scratched at the scabs on his hip. He was miserable. He should have been working on homework, but how was he supposed to focus? He could hear music blasting from a room down the hall. He couldn’t figure out why no one had gone and forced them to turn it down yet. It was so loud.

The door to their suite slammed open and two people stormed in. Race and Spot were shouting at each other in the entryway, but it didn’t sound like they were angry. Why were they shouting about a pop quiz in their biology class? Jack heard Spot slam the door to his and Davey’s room shut right before Race flung the door to his room open and stomped inside. A fishy smell wafted into the room behind him. Jack gagged. Race flung his backpack onto his bed and collapsed onto it. Jack flinched at the sound.

Race must have noticed something was wrong because he shouted at Jack from his bed. “You okay, Jack?”

“Don’t fucking shout at me.” Jack’s own voice gave him a headache.

“I’m not shouting.”

Jack heard the springs in Race’s mattress groan and the Race’s stomping footsteps as he crossed the room and sat down next to him.

“Yes, you are.”

“Hey, look at me.” Race shouted next to his head, causing Jack to flinch away. He heard Race suck in a breath. “Whoa,” Race’s voice was quieter now, still loud, but bearable, “it’s the moon. It’s messing with you real bad.”

“This was a mistake. I never shoulda let Davey bite me.”

Race bumped his shoulder against him. “Hey. None of that. You know you don’t mean that. You’re gone for Daves, so don’t be mad at him. You did this for me, to help me find out what happened to my parents. I appreciate that. So if you’re going to blame someone, blame me.”

“I couldn’t let you do it alone.”

“Lie down.” Race pushed Jack back down and then stood up. He pulled Jack’s shoes off and dropped them on the ground at the foot of his bed. The noise cut through Jack’s head and he groaned. “Sorry. Here.”

Jack felt a pillow, that smelled of Race, pushed into his hands, and pulled it over his head, sandwiching himself between two pillows.

“I’ll go study with Spot, I’ll try to keep it quiet. Practice what Davey was teaching me, it’ll help.”

Jack gave a limp thumbs up and dropped his arms to his sides, trying just to focus on his breathing.

He heard Race ease the door shut behind him.

Jack realized he’d fallen asleep at some point when he heard Davey and Race whispering. He hadn’t even heard the door open. He considered pulling the pillow off of his face but decided against it. Even muffled their whispers were loud enough to bother him, and he could still hear music pounding somewhere down the hall.

“Should we wake him up?” Race asked.

“He’s already awake,” Davey said.

“How can you tell?”

“His breathing changed.”

“Why the hell would you even be paying attention to that?” The spring in Race’s bed made noise, and Jack assumed he’d sat down on it.

Davey didn’t make a verbal response, but Jack could picture him shrugging. He pulled the pillow off of his head and blinked, the room seemed far too bright. Davey moved across the room and turned off the lights, leaving only twilight coming through the window.

“How long?” Jack asked, unwilling to look at his phone.

“15 minutes,” Davey said.

“So I should start doing those exercises you have Race do?”

Davey shook his head. “No, not for your first change. Maybe we’ll try those tomorrow. You shouldn’t delay your first change.” He looked out the window. “I wish we didn’t have to do this here.”

“In the dorm?” Jack asked.

“For one, but I meant in the city. I’d rather do it out in the woods, where we could run down a deer and you’d get to fully experience things.” Davey sat down next to Jack and threw an arm around his shoulders.

After the afternoon he’d had, Jack just cuddled up against Davey’s side, resting his head on his shoulder.

“You do that a lot?” Race asked.

“Depends on how you define ‘a lot’. Usually, the whole pack would go camping once a year and run one or two down.”

Race made a face.

Davey frowned. “You’ve spent too long fighting it. You need to accept the wolf, Race.”

Race shook his head. “It’s dangerous.”

“It’s part of you. Wolves are less dangerous than humans.”

“It’s a wild animal.”

Davey sighed. “ _ It _ isn’t a wild animal.  _ You  _ are a wild animal. Which is why I’m not saying you should do it in the middle of Times Square, but you’re never going to get control of your changes until you accept it.” He squeezed Jack’s shoulder and then stood up. He crossed the room to Race and put a hand on his shoulder. “I know it’s scary, and I’m so sorry that you’ve been alone, well not alone,” Davey gestured at Jack, “but without a guide for so long, but you can do this. The wolf isn’t some separate thing, it’s part of you, just like an arm or a leg. You don’t need to be afraid of it. You won’t do anything you’ll regret. At least not any worse than if you were to get drunk.”

“I’ve done some pretty fucked up stuff while drunk, Daves.” Race checked his phone and then started removing his clothes.

Jack stood up and started removing his clothes, tossing them at the foot of his bed.

Davey watched Jack for a moment and then began removing his own. He folded his clothes and left them near the door, after double-checking that the door was locked. He pulled his phone out of his pants pocket, checked the time, and set it down on top of his clothes. “Less than five minutes.”

Jack tried not to tense up. On Saturday this had sounded like a great idea, but now he was convinced he’d made a mistake. Not that there was any way he could back out now. Davey had given him plenty of chances before biting him, but there wasn’t anything that could be done now. Unless maybe it didn’t take. Maybe he wouldn’t change. Yeah, and maybe he hadn’t had a heightened sense of smell all day. Suddenly arms were enfolding him and the smell of Davey was surrounding him.

“Shh… it’s okay, Jackie.” Davey pulled back to look him in the eye. “I’m sorry if I pressured you into this.”

Jack shook his head. “No, I wanted it. Just… you’d think after years of Racer I’d have known what I was signing up for.”

Davey pulled him close again. “It’ll feel weird, but I promise you that it won’t hurt and that no matter what, you’ll still be you.

The alarm on Race’s phone went off and he silenced it. “Thirty seconds boys.” 

Jack tensed up for a moment, but Davey’s presence soothed him.

Davey gave him a final squeeze and released him. “It’s going to be fine. Deep breaths, Jack. Deep breaths.”

Jack nodded, closed his eyes, and focused on his breathing. He lost count of the seconds but knew the exact instant of moonrise. His whole body shuddered as an unfamiliar tingle lept up his spine.

“Deep breaths. Don’t try to fight it. Try to draw the itch up, like a hoodie or a cloak.”

Jack fixated on Davey’s calm voice. Holding onto it like a sailor adrift at sea clinging to a rock just above the waves. The tingling spread from his spine, and he let go of the rock, focusing only on the tingle as he sank into the waves.

Jack felt a pressure building throughout his body. It wasn’t painful, but it was uncomfortable. Jack’s flesh started to squirm. It felt like there were worms moving beneath his skin, straining to burst out of their confines. He opened his eyes and looked down. Hair was growing down his arms and across the back of his hands, but he could still see his muscles twitching and twisting under it, looking just like the worms they felt like. He closed his eyes again and sank back into the tingle rippling out from his spine. A cacophony of sharp pops and cracks echoed in his ears, and then he was falling forward. His eyes sprang open and Jack landed on his front paws.

The strange pressure had gone away and the tingling was gone. He looked down at his new paws and realized he was looking past a snout covered in dark brown fur. He raised his nose to the air and took a deep breath. The air was thick with textures. The smell of dirty clothes under a bed. The smell of mostly clean clothes with the lingering traces of deodorant. A whiff of fried chicken that must have been coming from somewhere down the hall. But most prominent in his nose was the smell of the pack. He spun around. For some reason, they were both on two legs, which seemed wrong to him, but not that important. The light-haired one was sitting on the ground across the room, his eyes closed. The dark-haired one was standing close, a look on his face that he couldn’t understand, but he smelled happy.

The dark-haired one squatted down and held one of his long pale forepaws out to him. He padded forward and sniffed at it. His tail wagged in a sinuous motion and he licked the strange forepaw in greeting.

“That’s disgusting.” The dark-haired one said and wiped his hand off in his fur, then reached under his muzzle to tilt his head up and look him in the eye. “Try and focus a little, Jackie.”

He blinked, the sound of his name from Davey’s mouth bringing him back to himself. Jack twisted to his left and right, looking back at himself. He was a wolf. He turned around in a circle trying to get a better look at his tail. The change hadn’t been as bad as he was expecting. He wouldn’t recommend it as a party game, but it was over pretty fast, which was good since he was going to be doing it a lot from now on. He heard the refrigerator open and stopped chasing his tail to focus on it.

Davey was pulling out one of Race’s packages of hot dogs and opening it.

Jack was normally repulsed by the small tubes of mystery meat, but some primal part of his brain had his tail wagging as Davey pulled one out and threw it at him. He tried to catch it in mid-air like he’d seen dogs do but overshot and skidded into Race’s desk. He spun around and ate it off the ground.

“You better not be feeding my meat to Jack, David,” Race said.

Davey shrugged and tossed another one to Jack, who missed it and felt it bounce off his face and watched it fly under his bed. “I’ll buy you more tomorrow.”

“You’d better.”

Jack tried to squeeze under his bed to get at the hot dog but got a face full of his unwashed underwear. He backed out, whining, and scratching at his nose.

Davey chuckled and reached under the bed to find the lost hot dog. “And your passive-aggressive plan to make one of us do your laundry backfires.” He tossed the now smellier hot dog to Jack, who managed to catch it in his mouth this time. Jack chewed and swallowed before he even considered where it had just been.


	14. Laundry

David woke up before dawn the next morning, laying on top of Jack’s bed, still a wolf. They were sleeping head to head, with their butts hanging off the ends of the bed, that was not designed for two fully-grown wolves. He yawned and hopped off the bed. Race was still asleep on his bed, curled into a tight ball. David shook his head and padded across the room to nose at his phone and check the time. Moonset was soon, so no point in going back to bed.

He stretched out and then pushed his itch back down to the base of his spine. He stood up and stretched again before pulling his underwear and pants from the day before back on. He crossed the room back to Jack’s bed and sat down next to the sleeping wolf. David started stroking his fur and scratched behind his ears to wake him up. Jack didn’t open his eyes, but David could tell he was awake by how his breathing changed.

“Time to get up. You don’t want to sleep through getting your thumbs back, do you?”

The wolf opened one eye, looked David in the eye, closed his eye, and then pushed his head into David’s hand. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I stop petting you?” David scratched behind Jack’s other ear and then rubbed his belly.

Jack huffed in what might have been annoyance but didn’t pull away.

Alarms on three phones went off.

David dismissed the alarm on Jack’s phone, then crossed the room to where he’d left his own and dismissed that. He tried to find Race’s phone, but it sounded like it was coming from between the mattress and the bed frame. He wasn’t sure how Jack and Race managed to live like this, but he was grateful that Sean didn’t have the same habits.

Pops and snaps sounded from both beds. Race was still asleep, despite both the alarm and his transformation, so David turned to keep an eye on Jack. He’d never even heard of anyone having trouble changing back, but knew he’d feel better keeping an eye on him. Jack had his eyes closed as he changed and transformed back at the same speed as he’d shown the night before.

David figured that Jack’s first night had gone pretty well, all things considered. He hadn’t freaked out, and he’d managed a very quick change for his first time, none of the prolonged discomfort Race still suffered from. He had to figure out a different way to teach Race. He wasn’t sure what to try, but if he didn’t try a new approach, then Jack would end up getting control of the change before Race, and David did not even want to consider the nightmare he’d have dealing with Race after that.

After Jack had finished changing, David sat down next to him on the bed again and ran a hand through his hair. “So, how was it?”

Jack blinked his eyes open and smiled at him. “Not as bad as I expected.” His eyes darted to the other bed where a now human Race was still asleep. “He don’t make it look easy.”

David sighed. “I know. He’s scared of something, losing control maybe, and fights the wolf.”

“Yeah, that was the weirdest part of last night. After I changed and before you reminded me I was human, it was like I actually was a wolf, just an ordinary wolf.”

“Yeah, that’s normal the first time.”

“Reminds me of Racer’s first time. I was such an idiot, I spent the night wondering where he went and how he managed to smuggle a dog into the Refuge.”

“The Refuge?” David asked.

“Group home we was in at the time. Where I met Spot, actually.” He sat up and leaned his head on David’s shoulder. “Pretty shitty place, not sure how Snyder kept it open for so long, wasn’t the sort of place the foster system approved of when they finally caught on.” Jack smiled.

David bumped their shoulders together. “Why do I feel like you had something to do with that?”

“Me? Nah,” Jack said. “Might be Medda and Denton said something to someone though.”

“And?”

“And might be Race, Spot, and I said something to them after we was adopted.”

David smiled. “You’re a good man, Jack.”

Jack made a face and stood up. “Hey, I’m a blowhard. If anyone in this dorm is a good man, it’s you.”

David kissed Jack on the cheek and stood up. “Well, this good man thinks you need to shower and get ready for your class.”

Jack fell back onto his bed with a grunt. “Did you have to remind me?” He raised his head up and looked at David. “How about we shower together?”

David laughed. “Now you’re just trying to use me to get out of going to class. Go shower, alone, and I’ll teach you how to do laundry this afternoon.”

Jack made a face. “Fine. You win this round, Jacobs.”

David walked out of the room and back into his own. Sean was still asleep. David took off his pants and crawled into his own bed, after all, he hadn’t been dumb enough to take an 8 a.m. course.

David was feeling much better as he walked into his chemistry lecture. Changing the night before had ripped off the last of the dead skin from his silver burn and it was healed now. Jack was an oboroten, so he didn’t have to worry about the packs coming to kill him and Race for letting a human know. Of course, he now had two uneducated oborotni to teach, but that was much less intimidating than it probably should have been.

He crossed the lecture hall to his usual seat in the second row, noticing as we did that Professor Jones-Johnson was already at the front, writing formulae on the whiteboard. His eye-patched lab partner was already in the seat next to him, which was odd. Louis usually sat in the back row. David took off his backpack and sat down, dropping the bag between his feet.

“You okay?” Louis asked him.

David nodded. “Yeah, it was just some weird allergic reaction. Well, and my shirt has a big black stain now.”

Louis shrugged. “You surprised me, coming up on my blind side like that.”

“It’s fine, Louis.” It wasn’t really, it had hurt like hell, but he couldn’t explain why. “Were you able to finish the lab after I left?”

“Yeah.” He pulled a notebook and pencil out of his backpack and set them on the folding desk attached to his chair. His eye darted to look at David who was doing the same. “Want me to email the data so you can still write a report?”

David nodded. “Please.”

Louis shrugged again and looked like he was about to say something, but was distracted by the professor turning around and starting the lecture.

For just an instant after turning around, David could have sworn that Professor Jones-Johnson looked right at him with a frown, but when he blinked the professor was already delivering the lecture. He hurried to take notes.

David made it back to his dorm in the early afternoon, after his Intro to World Religions course. Race and Sean were sitting on Sean’s bed, poring over a biology textbook with pages of notes spread out between them. 

David set his backpack near his desk and pulled out his laptop. He sat down on his bed to see if Louis had emailed him the lab data yet. He wouldn’t have trouble passing the lab if he missed the report, but he’d rather not look like he was skipping work. Louis had emailed him. David opened the attachment to find a photo taken of the page in a lab book, it was a little blurry, but he could just make out the numbers. He replied with thanks and started on his report.

Race and Sean kept sneaking looks at each other, whenever they thought the other one wasn’t looking. David was beginning to suspect that the pages of notes separating them were intentional. The two of them were being ridiculous, but he couldn’t think of any polite way to help them. Maybe he should just lock them in the bathroom until they figured it out? No, they still wouldn’t figure it out, and he and Jack would have to go down to the lobby if they needed to use the bathroom.

Race was too worried about someone finding out he was an oboroten to date. Which on some level David appreciated, but plenty of them managed to date humans without revealing themselves. Keeping a secret from someone you were dating was hard, and he didn’t agree with the oborotni who waited until after they were married to tell their partner, but Race was far too repressed. David wondered if his unwillingness to date was linked to his fear of his wolf. Maybe he was less afraid of Sean finding out than he was that he might do something to hurt him. David needed to find some way to help Race past his troubles, but had no idea how. There wasn’t a precedent for a werewolf who’d grown up alone. 

Race and Sean’s studious not-flirting kept distracting David. He connected his earbuds to his laptop, put on a Spotify playlist, and sat down at his desk, facing the wall. He focused on his homework and soon lost himself in it.

A hand tapped his shoulder, and he spun around, fist first. He only just managed to stop his fist from hitting a surprised Jack in the solar plexus. He pulled his hand back to remove his earbuds. “Sorry about that.”

Jack gave him a strange look, it seemed equal parts concern, sadness, and something else David couldn’t place. “You always this jumpy?”

David’s eyebrows raised as he considered the question. “Yeah, I guess so. My dad’s big on always being prepared.” He pulled on the cuff of his shirt with his other hand. “And I have a little brother.”

Jack’s expression deepened, and David wasn’t any closer to understanding it.

David cleared his throat. “Are you ready for laundry?”

Jack’s face brightened and he nodded. “Yep.” Jack said, popping the p.

David smiled and closed his laptop. “I assume it’s too much to expect you to have any detergent?”

“What’s detergent?” Jack winked at him.

“Incorrigible,” David shook his head and stood up. “We can share mine, go get your dirty laundry. You should be able to sniff it all out.”

Jack wrinkled his nose and laughed on his way back to his room.

David noticed Race and Sean had left at some point, and checked his phone to see that an hour had passed since he got back from class. He shrugged and checked around his bed for any socks that hadn’t made it into his laundry basket. Not finding any, he grabbed the bottle of detergent and pack of dryer sheets, dropped them on top of his laundry, and picked up the basket.

He walked into the entryway, and closed the door behind him, locking it. David hoped Sean had his key wherever he’d gotten off too. He considered waiting for Jack, but decided he didn’t feel like waiting a month, so set his basket down and walked into Jack’s room. He could only see Jack’s legs sticking out from under his bed. He caught himself staring at Jack’s ass. He looked away while heat bloomed in his cheeks.

David walked to the pile of rancid clothes at the foot of Jack’s bed and looked around for something to wrap them in. Jack didn’t have a laundry basket of his own or even a convenient sack. Thinking it over, David realized Jack hadn’t washed his sheets since moving in either, and the top sheet would make a good enough bag to get things to and from the laundry room. He started yanking the sheets off the bed.

“Whatcha doin’ out there?” Came Jack’s muffled voice.

“You need to wash your sheets too.”

“Sheets need washing?”

David kicked at Jack’s leg.

“Hey!”

“Hurry up.”

“We got plenty of time.”

“Don’t blame me for thinking that teaching you to do laundry is going to be an all-day affair.” David kicked at Jack’s leg again.

“Hey, just because you’re right, doesn’t mean you should say it.” He squirmed out from under the bed with a pile of socks, underwear, and one pair of jeans in his arms.

David helped Jack throw all his dirty laundry onto the sheet and pull it up into an impromptu bag, then went to the entry hall and picked up his basket. He led Jack out the door, down the elevator, and to the laundry room.

“First thing to do is sort your laundry.” David set his basket down on a machine.

Jack plopped his makeshift bag on top of a washer, dropping the side and allowing some of his clothes spill onto the floor. “Sort it? It’s all dirty ain’t it?”

“Colors and whites don't mix, Jack.”

“I don’t own anything white, not anymore at least.” He held up a once-white t-shirt covered in colored spots of paint.

“Lights from darks then, although,” David picked through Jack’s laundry, “maybe in your case, it doesn’t matter. Do you own anything that isn’t covered in paint stains?”

“The suit Ma bought me for senior pictures and graduation.”

“Well, sort the darks from the lights.” David started following his own advice, sorting into two washing machines. He kept one eye on Jack and watched as he copied him. Once their laundry was sorted, he took his bottle of detergent, put half a capful in each of his washers, and handed the bottle to Jack, who copied him again.

“Now what?”

“Now we put the money in and start the machines.” David showed him where to scan his NYUCard.

Jack made a face before scanning his card. “Three bucks? Per load? You sure this isn’t a scam?”

“I’m sure it  _ is  _ a scam, but it’s this or washing them in the bathroom sink.”

“Okay, now what?”

“Now we hang around and wait,” David said.

“We just wait?”

“Well, if you trust all of our dorm mates with your unmentionables, we could go back to the room.”

Jack took a look at the other students in the room and shook his head. “That doesn’t seem like a good idea, Davey. But staying here seems pretty boring.” He reached out and stroked a knuckle down David’s face.

Long practice in keeping control of his body allowed David to suppress the shudder that wanted to run down his spine. Jack was very tactile, and David wasn’t used to it. He looked down into green eyes. He knew there was no way Jack could be serious about him, but he’d already gone this far, so there was no reason not to go ahead and enjoy it until Jack lost interest. He dragged Jack to the chairs against the wall and pulled Jack onto his lap while he sat down. “We’ll just have to find some way to fill the time then.”

It was an hour before sunset when they made it back to the room with their fresh laundry and disheveled hair. David went to his room to put his clothes away and left Jack to, he assumed, dump them all back on the floor.

Sean wasn’t there, which was somewhat unusual but gave David a chance to at least run a comb through his air before being confronted by the brother of the boy he’d just spent over an hour making out with. He checked the time on his phone again. Realizing it had been over two hours, he blushed and set about changing his sheets. Once his clean clothes were all in the closet, he double-checked that he had all his homework for the day done. Reasoning that he could finish the lab report the next day, it wasn’t due until Thursday, he headed to Jack’s room, intent on getting him started on the breathing and spinal exercises necessary for learning control.

Race was asleep on his bed and Jack’s clothes were right where David had expected them to be. He made a tutting sound at seeing the clean pile at the foot of Jack’s bed.

“I’m used to getting dressed from a pile, if I put them in the closet I’ll never find them. Do you want me to go to class naked, Davey?”

David grinned and started to answer, but Jack cut him off.

“Don’t answer that.” Jack waggled his eyebrows at him, in what he must’ve thought was a suggestive manner.

“Come on, Cowboy. Time to get started on some meditation.”

“Already? I thought I got the first month off?”

“You got the first night off, tonight we start your training.”

“This how your parents did it?”

“My parents had taught me all the techniques by the time I was eleven, just in case I changed younger than normal.”

“That happen a lot?” Jack asked.

“Not a lot, but it’s not unusual either. Earliest I know of was a girl who changed at ten, but girls usually change sooner than boys.”

Jack hummed while he toed off his shoes and sat down on the ground. “Alright, so what do I do?”

David sat down in front of him and moved his limbs into position. “Sit like this. Take a deep breath through your nose. Hold it in your throat. Then breathe out through your nose. Like this.” He took the position himself and demonstrated it.

“Hold it in my throat?”

“Like you’re about to whisper a secret.” David demonstrated again.

“Okay.” Jack closed his eyes and David listened to his breathing.

“Again.” David could tell Jack was rolling his eyes, even with his eyes closed, but he did the breathing exercise again. “Good, keep repeating that. Get used to it. You’ll do that at moonrise and try to feel the wolf rise up from the base of your spine and spread through you.” Jack nodded and kept breathing.


	15. Phone Thief

Jack’s second change went as well as the first, though Davey didn’t change with them and went back to his room an hour after moonrise. Race held out almost half-an-hour, but when he changed it was just as horrible to watch as it always had been. He hated himself for it, but Jack couldn’t help but feel relief that he didn’t struggle like that. Davey had them spend the rest of that week meditating for an hour a night to learn how to ‘draw forth the wolf’. Race was horrible at it. By the end of the week, when the moon had gone too far past full, Jack had managed to trigger the change once. He could tell he was a long way from the partial changes Davey had shown them though.

He didn’t understand why he was having an easier time of it than Race. It didn’t sit right with him, someone just bitten being better than a natural born werewolf who’d been changing every month for years. Race had been weird ever since Jack had changed outside the full moon, but Jack couldn’t tell if he was angry at him, relieved that he hadn’t managed it, or both.

The next Tuesday afternoon found Jack lying across Davey’s bed, watching him do homework. Homework that Jack also had and should have been working on. “Want to go see  _ The Predator _ tonight?”

Davey hummed to himself before answering. “I heard it wasn’t very good.”

“So? It’s got predators in it, Davey.”

He heard some typing. “Wikipedia says it also has a problematic portrayal of autism. I am not giving money to that.”

“Okay, so you pick a movie for us to make out in.”

There was more typing. “How about  _ The House with a Clock in Its Walls _ ?”

“Isn’t that for kids?”

“Okay, one, it’s October already, so we should see something thematic. Two, I loved that book as a kid. Three, if you’re just planning for us to make out the whole time, then what do you care what type of movie it is?”

“I’d rather not make out in front of little kids, thank you very much.”

“Well then, we can never make out in front of Race again.”

Jack laughed.

Davey’s face fell, Jack could guess what he was thinking about now.

“Hey,” Jack nudged Davey, “he’s smart, smarter than any of us give him credit for, he’ll get the hang of it.”

He could tell he’d guessed right when Davey slumped. “He grew up alone for so long. He’s so scared of himself. I’ve never even heard of another oboroten in a situation like his, never seen one so afraid of their own wolf.” Davey wiped at his face. “I’m trying to teach the two of you like my parents taught me, but it’s just not working and I don’t know what to do.”

“I don’t suppose there’s a lot of oboroten therapists out there?”

Davey laughed, but it sounded hollow. “There are not.”

“Sounds like you guys could use a few.”

“Us, not ‘you guys’. Don’t forget, you’re one of us now.” Davey smiled at him. “But, you’re not wrong.”

“You should change majors. I bet those old imperialists that drove off the cats have enough issues to keep you employed for the next four hundred years.”

“Ugh, that sounds like a nightmare.”

“What is your major anyhow?”

“Anthropology with a minor in Ancient Studies.”

Jack whistled. “What are you planning to do with that?”

“Archaeology, eventually.”

“Eventually?”

“After I get my doctorate. Speaking of which,” Davey turned his attention back to his homework.

“So then I’ll have to call you Doctor Jacobs?”

“Like you’re ever going to call me anything besides Davey.”

“I could start calling you Indiana Jones. You could rescue me from Nazis. Which is disturbingly possible these days.” A horrible thought occurred to him. “Davey?”

Davey stopped what he was doing and looked at him again.

“Were there oborotni… involved in that?”

“In what, Jack?”

“Were there oboroten Nazis?”

Davey frowned but nodded, then looked back at his homework. “After the war, the Russian packs started hunting them. Most of the European packs actually, but the Russian packs are the most determined.”

“So they’re all dead then?”

“Most, but probably not all. The Russians are still hunting them, so any that are left are in hiding.”

“Good.”

Jack went back to scrolling through Instagram and waited until Davey had finished his homework and joined him on the bed.

“So, I know you don’t want to talk about this. But Race isn’t going to wait much longer to go looking for that warehouse in Red Hook.”

Davey sighed and stretched out. “I know, and there’s probably no danger, I can’t imagine some cult from over a decade ago is using the same place, but I’d feel better if the two of you knew anything about how to fight.”

“I can tell you we both know how to take a punch.”

Davey flinched and wrapped an arm under Jack’s shoulders. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

“So what, we should sign up for the Karate Club?”

“It’s not the worst idea, more pleasant than my family’s method. It’ll take longer though.”

“So why don’t you teach us your way?” Jack suspected he already knew the answer.

Davey’s arm tightened around him. “That’s a really bad idea.”

“Because it hurts?”

“I couldn’t put either of you through that.”

“But your dad put you through it?”

“Look, I know what you’re thinking, but that’s different.”

“Uh-huh, sure it is.”

Davey sighed. “Oborotni have to know how to fight, Jack.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s what we do.”

“You fight because you fight?” Jack laughed. “Now I know I ain’t a genius like you or Race, but that sounds a bit like one of them circular arguments to me.”

“It’s our purpose. Look,” Davey rolled onto his side so he could see Jack, “you already know there’s more than just us out there.”

“Yeah, I kinda figured that out, what with fish-devils killing Racer’s parents.”

“Well, a lot of the other things don’t play nice with people. We keep those other things in their dark corners.”

“I can’t help but ask why you didn’t think to mention that before you bit me?”

Davey leaned in close to him. “Would it have changed your mind?”

“No, but still would’ve been nice to know.”

“You’d already agreed to help us against the sea devils, I didn’t think it would matter.”

Jack turned to the side to face Davey. “It wouldn’t have stopped me, but you still should have told me.” His hand drifted down to his hip, resting just above the scar on his hip. It had been completely scarred over the first time he changed back, looking a few years old instead of less than a week.

Davey opened his mouth and looked like he was about to protest, but froze. He backed away from Jack, pulling his arm from around Jack’s shoulders, putting distance between them but not leaving the bed.

Jack started to reach out to him but stopped when Davey flinched away from his touch. “Hey, I didn’t mean—”

“No. You’re right.” Davey crossed his arms in front of his stomach and looked down toward Jack’s feet. “It was wrong of me not to tell you.” He looked back up, not quite able to meet Jack’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Davey, look at me.” Jack reached out and pulled Davey’s head up until their eyes did meet. “I’m not mad. I’m—”

“Disappointed. I get it.”

Jack sighed. “Will you let me finish? I’m not disappointed neither. I’m sad.”

“Sad?”

“That you didn’t think you could trust me.”

“How is that different from disappointed?”

“Because I ain’t disappointed in you. I… look, it’s just different okay. You’re the one who’s good with words.” Jack moved his hand from below Davey’s chin to his back and pulled him into a one-armed hug.

Davey tensed up when Jack first reached around him but relaxed into the hug after a few seconds. “I’m really sorry.”

“I know, Davey. You don’t need to apologize again. Just… just remember this the next time you offer to turn someone.”

Davey moved closer and rested his head in the crook of Jack’s neck. “What makes you think there’s going to be a next time?”

“Well if Spot and Race ever get off their asses.”

Davey snorted against his neck. “First, that’s never going to happen at this rate. Second, that’s Race’s problem, not mine.”

Jack laughed. “Well if you’re not planning on biting no one else, then I guess you’re lucky you met me.”

Davey made a non-committal grunt against Jack’s collarbone.

“Come on, let’s go see your kids movie.”

On Thursday Jack was sitting in the dining hall eating overcooked spaghetti with a double helping of what the staff claimed were meatballs. His appetite was a little less than it had been the day before his first change, but he was still eating a lot more than he was used to. Davey had said it was normal for oborotni, which had prompted Race to ask about where it all went, which had led to Davey trying to explain, and then devolved into the two of them going to the library together to get some physics books. Jack wasn’t at all sure he wanted to know what rabbit hole they’d fallen down.

A pair of trays were set down on his table, and he glanced up to see Blink and Mush pulling out chairs. Blink had the spaghetti and meatballs, and Mush had two slices of very suspect looking pepperoni pizza.

“To what do I owe the pleasure boys?”

“We just thought you could use a friendly face.” Blink said as he collapsed into his seat.

“Well, that explains why your boyfriend is here, what about you?”

“Ha. Ha. You’re hilarious, Kelly.”

“Sounds like he knows you, to me.” Mush said before picking up a slice of pizza and eyeing it with obvious suspicion. “I should’ve gone with the meatballs.”

“It’s your punishment for siding with him against me.” Blink speared a meatball on his plastic fork and ate it in one bite.

Mush leaned over, kissed Blink on the cheek, and then took a grease-soaked bite of pizza.

A blush spread on Blink’s cheeks while he speared another meatball. “No more kissing until you get that grease or whatever that is off your lips.”

Mush leaned over again and planted a now greasy kiss on Blink’s cheek.

“Ew.” Blush ate the meatball from his fork and then grabbed a napkin to rub at his cheek.

Jack ate a meatball with a large portion of noodles drenched in a red sauce that tasted more like ketchup than marinara. At least the meatball was probably actual meat, probably. “How’s the pizza?”

“I think it’s American cheese on cardboard.” Mush took another large bite, chewed, and swallowed. “Which makes it better than the sad, flavorless things they called tacos.” He took another bite.

“Glad I missed taco day then,” Jack said.

“How’s the spaghetti?” Mush asked.

“Overcooked and soaked in ketchup.”

“Think I’ll stick with cheesy cardboard.”

Jack shrugged and took another bite. Neither sounded good to him, but they both had to eat something.

Mush planted another greasy kiss on Blink’s cheek causing Blink to grumble but wipe the grease off with a napkin.

“The two of youse are absolutely sickening.” Jack shook his head and took another bite.

“You’re just jealous that we have a love life and you don’t,” Mush said.

“Hey, my love life is doing just fine, thank you.”

“Oh, Spot’s roommate putting out?” Blink asked.

“First of all, his name is Davey. Second of all, that is a crass question and that I refuse to dignify with a response.”

Blink leaned over to Mush and stage-whispered into his ear, “That means yes.”

Mush snickered.

“You’re just jealous that he’s a better boyfriend for me than you ever were,” Jack smirked at getting the chance to throw Blink’s words back at him, even if he and Davey weren’t official yet or anything.

“As you said, it wouldn’t be hard. I’m amazed we didn’t kill each other.”

“I only considered dropping a lighting batten on you a few times.”

“Lighting batten?” Mush asked.

“The pipes they hang lights from over a theatre stage. In high school, Jacky-boy here was stage crew.”

“Yeah, and you were a regular prima donna. How many shows were you the lead-in?”

“Enough,” Blink said.

“And it’s primo uomo, not donna,” Mush added.

“Oh sure, gang up on me,” Jack said.

“Bring your new beau around then, even the odds,” Blink said.

“No way. He’d probably side with the two of youse.” Jack said and then laughed.

“You should definitely bring him around then. I need all the help I can get keeping your ego in check.”

“If anyone at this table needs their ego deflated, it’s not me.”

“You saying I have a big head?”

“I’m still not sure how you manage to get that eyepatch around it.”

“Were you two like this when you were together?” Mush asked.

Blink shook his head. “We were worse.”

“Cause then we were  _ trying  _ to hurt each other.”

Jack woke up after a nap and noticed it was dark out. He groaned. He hadn’t planned on sleeping that long, but when he'd’ got back to the room he’d kicked off his shoes and collapsed onto his bed for a nap. He had homework that he needed to get done. He reached for his phone to check the time, but couldn’t find it.

He rolled over and looked around the bed, thinking it must’ve fallen out of his pocket, then flipped over and dangled his head over the side of the bed to check under it. Jack tried to think of the last time he’d had it. He was pretty sure he’d had it on the way back to the dorm, so he hadn’t left it in class. It had to be here somewhere.

Abandoning his search he got up and walked out of the room, hoping it wasn’t too late to bother Davey and Spot. Their light was still on, which he took as a good sign and knocked. A shadow blocked some of the light coming from the crack under the door, and it opened to reveal Davey. Spot was lying on his bed, his ever-present earbuds in.

“Can you call me?” Jack asked.

“Call you?”

“Yeah, I can’t find my phone.”

“Did you check under your bed?”

“Of course I checked under my bed.”

“Why didn’t you have Race call it?”

“He’s not here.”

Davey frowned and pulled out his phone. “It’s eleven, where is he?”

Jack blinked and tried not to swear, he was never going to get his homework done.

Davey unlocked his phone and dialed Jack’s contact, but there was no sound from his room.

“Shit, if the battery is dead I’ll never find it.”

“It’s not dead. It’s ring—” Davey blinked. “Race? Why do you have— Hey!”

Jack snatched the phone from Davey’s hand and held it up to his ear. “What the fuck, Race?”

“What? I needed it for something,” Race said.

Davey was glaring at Jack, who chose to ignore him for the moment.

“So you just took it?”

“You was asleep.”

“You can’t just take my phone, Racer.”

“Pot, meet kettle,” Davey said while still glaring at him.

“Look, I’ll explain when I get back,” Race said.

“And when exactly is that going to be?”

“Soon. Now give Dave back his phone before he has a coronary.” Race ended the call.

Jack grumbled and handed the phone back to Davey. “Sorry.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“You mean you’re lucky I’m cute.” Jack flashed Davey his best grin and was rewarded with a blush spreading on the other boy’s cheeks.

“Flirt.”

“You love it.” Jack leaned in and stole a quick kiss. “I should go work on my homework, napped the whole afternoon away.”

Davey leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “You should go work on that, then, and I should go to bed.”

Jack pulled away with some reluctance and went back to his room, to try and get as much of his homework completed as he could. Well, that and to wait to kill Race. Ten minutes later he heard keys jingle in the lock to the room and the door opened. He spun in his chair and watched Race slink into the room, a brown bag clutched in his hands.

Jack steepled his fingers in front of himself, doing his best impression of an angry father. “And just where have you been, young man?”

“The library.”

Jack directed his eyes to the bag clutched in Race’s hand.

“Okay, and I stopped by Jacobi’s.” Race opened the bag and pulled out a sandwich. “I bought you one too. Turkey club with triple meat.” He held the sandwich out to Jack.

Jack snatched the sandwich, set it in his lap, and held his hand out. “My phone.”

Race pulled Jack’s phone from his pocket and handed it over.

Jack checked the screen to make sure there weren’t any new cracks and then hugged it to himself. “Why did you need my phone to go to the library?”

Race sat down on his desk chair, opposite Jack, and pulled out his sandwich. “Okay, so one of the Special Collections has some insane security requirements. They’ll let you in to read them, with special gloves and a painter’s mask so you can’t get spit on them, but they won’t let you bring in any writing utensils or anything that you can use to take pictures. They make you give up your phone when you go in.”

“Okay, that’s super weird and all, but that still don’t explain why you took my phone.”

“So I could fake them out. I give them your phone when they ask me to surrender it, and they don’t search me to see the other one.” Race pulled out his phone, unlocked it, and held up an image of a book page. “So I was able to get pictures of the whole book.”

“And you needed pictures of some old book why?”

“Because it’s a fucking spellbook, Jack.”

Jack stared at Race and started unwrapping his sandwich, he’d missed dinner after all. He took a bite, still staring at Race.

“Don’t give me that look. You watched Daves cast a spell  _ on  _ you.”

“Yeah, but he grew up with all of this stuff. And don’t you think if there were actual working spellbooks in libraries that people would know about it?”

“First, I should’ve been raised in it. Second, it’s not like this book was easy to get to. It’s one of two known copies in the country, and it took me weeks just to get access to the collection it’s in. I had to come up with a ‘valid academic need’ before they’d even let me read a single page. Even then, most of the books were in Latin.”

“How’d you know the library would even have books like that?”

“I didn’t. But Dave said magic was real, and that there were human sorcerers, so there had to be books somewhere.” Race shrugged and unwrapped his sandwich.

“You still should’ve asked to borrow my phone.”

“You was asleep, I didn’t think you’d notice.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“You planning to show your book to Davey?” Jack gave Race a look he hoped was filled with meaning.

“Well I wasn’t, but since you went and made me borrowing your phone into national news, I guess I’ll have to.”

“Good, it doesn’t sound like the type of shit you should be messing around with unsupervised.”

“Please, if I only did things that didn’t require me being supervised, I’d never do anything at all.”

“And the human race would thank you for that.”

Race’s only response was to blow a raspberry at him.


	16. Revelations

David got back to the dorm room after his only Friday class. He’d have to see if he could work his spring schedule to have Fridays off, it would give him more time to do homework, which he now had to get started on if he wanted any free time this weekend. He was ambushed before he even made it from the front door to his bedroom. Hands closed around his arm and jerked him to the side and into Jack and Race’s room.

He dropped his shoulder and rammed it into the solar plexus of his assailant, then used it as the fulcrum to flip them onto their back.

Race hit the ground with a grunt. “You have got to teach me how to do that.”

David crossed his arms and glared down at Race. “You need to stop jumping me.”

“I thought jumping you was Jack’s job?” Race sat up and smirked at him.

David blushed and looked away. “You’re impossible.” He offered Race a hand and helped him up. “What did you want?”

“I need your help with something.”

“What?”

“This.” Race thrust his laptop into David’s hands.

David fumbled with it for a second and got it turned around so he could look at the screen. It was a document made from pictures of an old book in dim light. Several sketches caught his attention and he got a sinking feeling in his chest. “What are these pictures of?”

“A library book.”

“What’s the title of the book?” David sighed and scrolled another page. It was reminiscent of a document he still kept on his own phone, and that his parents would dismember him for having.”

“The _ Revelations of Glaaki _ , I found—”

David slammed the laptop shut without looking at another page and shoved it back into Race’s hands. “What?”

“I take it you’ve heard of it?” Race turned the laptop around and started to open it back up.

“No!” David grabbed it out of his hands and slammed it shut again.

“You need to stop doing that, Dave. I can’t afford a new laptop if you break that one.” Race reached for the laptop.

David held it up over his head, out of Race’s reach. “Which volume is this?”

“Nine.” Race jumped and managed to snatch the laptop out of David’s hand. “Now what, exactly, are you freaking out about?”

“Did you read any of the other volumes?”

“I skimmed them all, yeah.”

“What numbers?”

“One through eight.”

David let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Just nine volumes, that’s all you read? That’s all they have here?”

“Yeah, the whole set.”

“That’s not the whole set. It’s bad, but it’s not as bad as it could be.” David turned and paced around the edges of the room trying to collect himself. Giving up, he grabbed Race by the shoulders and met his eyes. “Listen to me, Tony. You need to be careful with books like this. If you ever find volume twelve. Do. Not. Open. It.” He poked Race in the chest to emphasize each word. “Burn it if you can.”

Race set the laptop on the desk behind him and held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Okay, Dave, you need to calm down. Deep breaths.”

David blinked and realized he was close to hyperventilating. He closed his eyes and forced himself to slow his breathing while Race kept counting.

“You’re doing good, Daves, just keep breathing, then you can yell at me, okay?”

David chuckled but kept focusing on his breathing until he felt calm enough to have a conversation. He backed up until he felt Jack’s bed behind him, and sat down.

“Okay, okay. So why should I burn volume twelve if I ever come across it?”

David opened his eyes and wished he hadn’t. He’d had them closed so long that the sunlight streaming through the window was painful. He blinked a few times until his eyes adjusted. “This is going to sound crazy, and maybe it is, but there are dangerous names, names you should never read, let alone say out loud.”

“Dangerous names?” Race sounded as skeptical as David had expected.

“Yes. There are things that can find you if you even just know their name, and one of them is recorded in volume twelve of the  _ Revelations of Glaaki _ .”

“What type of things have names like that?”

“We call them Outsiders, they could also be called demons. That book,” he pointed at the still-closed laptop, “probably calls them gods. Glaaki is one. They’re powerful… things. They aren’t from this world, not entirely at leas, and are usually unique.”

“So... that’s a lot to take in.” Race turned around and opened his laptop back up. “So you’re telling me there are gods. Gods are a real thing that exist.”

“I’m telling you that god-like things, that some people choose to worship, exist. I’m not saying they’re actual gods, just alien and vastly superior to any of us at magic.” David looked at Race. “Did you read all nine volumes and just assume they were lying about that part but telling the truth about the spells?”

“I mean… sorta. I figured it was just couching fundamental forces as gods because the writer didn’t know any better.”

“In some cases that might be true, and I’ve never read the  _ Revelations _ , but I’ve read enough works that cite it to know that Glaaki, at least, is very real, and that whoever reads the twelfth volume either disappears or… changes.”

“Changes?” Race was leaning close, David wasn’t thrilled with how excited he was. It reminded David too much of himself at a young age.

“They become corrupt. At least that’s how the journal I read put it. Whatever the worst thing you can imagine is, it’s probably worse.”

“I can imagine some pretty bad things. Especially having read through this stuff,” Race pointed at the laptop screen.

“Which is why you need to be careful. Just knowing some things is dangerous, and I’ll never forgive myself if something happens to you.” David scrubbed a hand down his face. “You’re not going to give up on this, are you?”

Race shook his head.

“And if there are books like that in the library here, then there’s no way I can stop you.”

“Not short of killing me.”

“Fuck me.” David ran his fingers through his hair. “Fine, I’ll teach you, but you’re going to have to listen to me, and you need to get me in to look at this collection. I need to make sure there’s nothing too dangerous in there. Where did NYU even get books like that?”

“They got them from some university in Massachusetts that closed down in the 1960s.”

“That place burned down, I didn’t think any of the books survived.”

“That would explain the smell on some of them.” Race scrolled on his laptop to an image of a specific page with a detailed diagram on it and smirked. “So, this is real?”

“What?”

“This is a real goddam spellbook I found?”

“Probably.”

“Probably?”

“There are real, functional spells in the original. I don’t know if they’re reproduced correctly in that edition.”

“Well here,” Race thrust the laptop toward David.

David grunted, but took off his backpack, dropped it on the floor, and accepted the laptop. He scrolled back a page and started studying the contents. He scrolled down a page and pulled his pocket notebook out. He flipped to one of the earlier pages and compared it to the diagram. He scrolled down another page on the laptop and frowned. David set his notebook down and pulled a pencil out of his backpack. He flipped to the first blank page and jotted down a few notes and a rough sketch of the diagram on the laptop. His quick calculations seemed to work, so the spell looked complete, and he could understand Race’s interest. Of course, the only way to be sure the spell was complete would be to attempt it and hope nothing went too wrong. He flipped back a few pages in his notebook and compared the spell in the book to the basic forms of the summoning and calling spells. It didn’t look like they could end up bringing something up, so that was good. It definitely invoked an Outsider at one point though, he’d need to look through the rest of the volume to find out how bad it was. Most weren’t as dangerous as the ones he’d warned Race about, most didn’t care either way about humanity or the Earth but that didn’t mean attracting their attention was a good idea.

Race had been bouncing his foot the entire time David studied and took notes, and his foot had been getting faster the entire time. David was surprised he could still see it at this point. “How much caffeine have you had today?”

Race shrugged and looked at the laptop.

David looked in the direction of the trashcan and saw it was filled with empty Keurig cups and then back at Race. “How does your heart not explode?”

“I think it has a few times.” Race made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “It’s caffeine, not silver. If it’s any consolation, Jack won’t let me put Redbull in it anymore.”

David just blinked at him.

“So?” Race asked. “The spell?” He gestured at the laptop and notebook in David’s lap.

David looked back at his lap, dismissing the issue of Race’s extreme caffeine addiction. “It looks complete, and it doesn’t look like it’ll accidentally summon anything. Whether it’ll work or do what it describes.” David shrugged. “I’ll need to research this more, though. It invokes an Outsider I’ve never heard of.”

“I thought you said those were bad?”

“I said they were god-like and alien. Think of it like,” David tried to think of a good analogy, “like an ant.”

“An ant?”

“I mean, let’s say you wake up tomorrow and there’s an ant next to your coffee maker, and it’s built a little circle, and it’s chanting your name, and asking for a packet of sweetener. What would you do?”

“After making sure I was awake?” Race waited for David to nod. “I’d give it sugar. I’d want to see where that goes.”

“Okay, and what would Sean do in that situation?”

“Stomp on it.”

David nodded.

“Oh, you’re saying we’re like ants to them, and some are like me and some are like Spot, and some are like Jack who would just assume he was seeing things and walk away.”

“Exactly. Although I’m not so sure Jack would just ignore anything at this point.” David pulled his charging cable out, connected it to his phone and Race’s laptop, and copied the file. “I’ll have to read this. I’ll get back to you in two or three days.” He held up his hand before Race could protest. “Don’t try anything until we’re ready, and don’t read any more books from that collection without running the titles past me.”

Race grumbled but nodded.

David disconnected his phone from Race’s laptop, handed it back, picked up his backpack, and headed back to his room. Race was going to be the death of him.

The door to the room opened and David looked up to see Sean coming in, taking his shirt off. He was wearing workout clothes and still sweaty. David looked away and back at his book after sneaking a quick look. He wasn’t interested in Sean that way, he couldn’t even imagine how awkward that would get, but he could tell that Sean’s time in the gym had been well spent. A glint of gold attracted his attention back to his roommate and the key around his neck.

“I didn’t think you were the jewelry type.”

Sean tilted his head, then his eyes widened and his hand went to the key. “You mean this?”

David nodded.

“It’s not jewelry.”

“It’s pretty ornate, almost looks like real gold.”

“It was my mother’s. My birth mother, I mean.”

“Oh.” David wasn’t sure what to say, but his curiosity got the better of him. “If it’s not too personal, how old were you when…?” He realized he wasn’t sure what had happened to Sean’s parents.

Sean rolled his eyes. “I was almost six when she left. Just woke up one morning and she wasn’t there no more. This was under my pillow.” He stroked the key and dropped it. “Children’s services came later that day and took me away from my dad, guess she called them on her way out of town.” He looked up at the ceiling and then back at David. “I don’t blame her for leaving, my dad’s an abusive ass, and even though foster care wasn’t great, ‘specially the Refuge, it was better than staying with him. But...”

“But why didn’t she take you with her?”

“Yeah, now before you think of anymore burning questions, I’m gonna hit the shower.” Sean grabbed a change of clothes and left the room.

David finished his assigned reading and pulled his phone out. He supposed he should start reading Race’s book. First, he pulled up the photos he’d taken when he was thirteen, wishing that he’d thought of using a scanning app like Race had done, a single file would’ve made the gallery of photos much more manageable. Were there even scanning apps when he’d done this? Probably, he decided. He also decided that if he ever had some free time, he’d organize the pictures into a single document, trying to scan through them like this was not working. Of course, he wouldn’t have time until maybe winter break, between college, training two werewolves, and dating one of those werewolves, he was swamped.

Sean walked back in, pulling a fresh shirt over his head. “So, any more questions you’re just dying to ask me?”

David started to shake his head, then stopped when a question popped into his head and he asked it before he could think better of it. “Why don’t you just ask Race out?” Sean stopped in his footsteps, David could tell that he hadn’t been expecting that. Then again David hadn’t been either.

Sean’s face went blank before he answered. “I did, once.”

“And he said, ‘no?’” David was shocked.

“He said, ‘no.’”

David sighed. Race was as infatuated with Sean as Sean was with Race. He’d assumed that Race’s resolve to not date would crumble if Sean asked him out. He guessed he’d just have to go on living with their incessant sexual tension until he could find a way to convince Race that he didn’t have to be afraid of dating.

Sean crossed the room and collapsed on his bed. “Alright, my turn.”

“Your turn?”

“You think you get to ask me all these personal questions and don’t have to answer any of your own?”

David set his phone down and rolled so he was facing Sean. “Alright, ask away.”

“What’s going on between you and my brother?”

“I think that’s fairly obvious.”

“I mean besides sex, and you know it.” Sean narrowed his eyes. “You’re evading the question. Interesting.”

“I thought you were pre-med, not a psych major.”

Sean shrugged. “Maybe I want to be a psychologist.”

“Do you?”

“No, but it’s your turn to answer questions.”

“Fine.” David took a breath to gather his thoughts. “Honestly?”

Sean nodded.

“I have no idea.”

“You mean you’re still evading, and after I answered your questions.”

“I’m not evading. I really have no idea.”

“You like him right?”

“When he’s not annoying me.”

“I did warn you,” Sean said while smirking at him. “But how do you have no idea. You like Jack. Jack likes you.”

“Does he, or does he just like something new? I won’t be new for much longer, and then he’ll move on.”

“If you think that, then why are you doing anything with him?”

“I don’t know, it just happened, and then he asked me out, and I liked it. It’s not like I had a lot of dating options in Buffalo.”

“So are you afraid that Jack’s using you, or that you’re using Jack?”

“You’re taking intro to psych, aren’t you?”

“I might be, but you’re not getting out of answering that easy.”

“I don’t know, and that is the truth. But does it really matter? He’ll get tired of me, realize he can do much better, and move on.”

“Don’t do that.” Sean was glaring at him now.

“Do what?”

“Put yourself down like that. Look, we may not have been roommates long, and I’m sorry about being a jerk when I thought you and Racer was dating. I know you weren’t, but even if you were, it’s not like I have any claim to him.” Sean took a breath. “Now listen to me, David. Jack cannot do better than you.”

“Right. Come on Sean, look at me.”

“I am, and I’m not saying you two are going to work out, ‘cause I don’t know, but if you like him, which I can only assume is from being dropped on your head as a child, then you should try dating him without always waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

That was a lot deeper than David had been expecting, which he realized was not fair to Sean. Just because the other boy was a gym rat, didn’t mean he was shallow. Logically he assumed Sean was right, but it didn’t feel true. He was plain and boring, well, as boring as an oboroten could be. The novelty would wear off and Jack would— 

A pillow collided with his face.

“I could practically hear your self-esteem plummeting. Stop that.” Sean stood up and crossed the room to retrieve his pillow.

“That’s easier said than done.”

“I’m sure it is, but I’m not always going to be here with a pillow to pull you out of it.” Sean hit him with the pillow again, then threw it on his bed. “Come on, let’s go food shopping, we’se out of milk.”


	17. Shark Jaws Aren’t Silver

“Davey! Come see this one.” Jack waited for Davey to come around the corner and then held up the costume he was holding. “It goes with my hat!”

“A newsboy?”

Jack grabbed another bagged costume from the rack. “You can be one too. We can get some prop papers somewhere, it’ll be great.”

“Really?” Davey didn’t look convinced.

“Not risque enough? We could go shirtless and be sexy newsboys. We could try to sell people issues of Playgirl!”

“Absolutely not!”

“Fine, we’ll wear shirts. We need to get you a hat though.” Jack turned and sped off down another aisle looking for hats, but stopped in front of a giant haunted house display with an animatronic wolfman lunging out of the door. Davey’s hurried footsteps came up behind him. “Hey Davey, remind you of anyone?”

“Please, that form is completely impractical. Just the head and hands? It would be impossible to hold for long, and what’s the point of claws if you don’t give yourself the musculature to use them properly?”

“You’re just upset that they turned you into a toy.”

“Looks more like you than me. My hair is darker.”

“Our hair is the same color, thank you very much. Now come on, we need to find you a hat.” Jack grabbed Davey’s hand and pulled him deeper into the store.

“Where did this store even come from? It wasn’t here last week.”

“No one knows, Davey. No one knows. They just appear in every vacant storefront when it gets close to Halloween.” He stopped in front of a rack of costume hats and pulled down a cheap newsboy cap and put it on Davey’s head. It was the same color as his, but it was the only color and size carried by the store. “There, now we match.” He grabbed Davey’s shoulders and spun him to face the mirror. “What d'ya think?”

Davey straightened the cap and took a good look in the mirror. “I think it’ll fall apart the first time I wash it.”

“It only has to last through one party, well, and the next seven days leading up to it. But I’m the one who rooms with Racer, so I’m pretty sure it’ll be safe enough in your room. If you want a real one we can go to an actual hat store.”

Davey met Jack’s eyes in the reflection. “There’s hat stores?”

“Davey, this is New York City, there’s stores for everything you could imagine.”

“Really? Anything  _ I _ could imagine?”

“Yup. If you’re imagining weird magic shit, then we just need to go looking for one of those stores that weren’t there yesterday, like in all the movies.” Jack leaned in closer and whispered in Davey’s ear, “And If you’re imagining kinky sex toys, I know a place.”

Davey blushed and shoved Jack away. “You’re barely eighteen, you haven’t had enough time to ‘know a place.’”

“What do you think I spent the night of my eighteenth birthday doing? Wasn’t like buying cigars for Racer and a lottery ticket took very long.”

“You win anything?”

“Three bucks for matching the Powerball, which is just enough for me to buy,” Jack pulled the hat off Davey’s head and checked the price and blinked, “a quarter of this hat for you.”

Davey snatched the hat from his hands “Seriously? Twelve ninety-nine for this piece of crap? Let’s just get the costumes here, and then you can show me this hat store.”

They stopped for a meal at Jacobi’s, a large meal, before making it back to the dorm room, just after sunset, with their costumes, and the new newsboy cap that Jack insisted Davey wear. It was three days before they’d need to worry about the full moon again, although Jack could swear he could already feel the buzz of energy growing stronger each night as it drew closer. The whole suite was dark and quiet when they entered.

“Wonder where the boys are?” Jack headed towards his room and opened the unlocked door, while Davey unlocked the door to the room he shared with Spot and turned the light on.

“No idea. But probably not together.”

Jack set the bags on his bed and then followed Davey into his room. “Unfortunately. You could swim in the sexual tension around here.”

“Blame Race.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I do.” Jack looked at Davey. “You know what?”

“No, what?”

“That hat really suits you.” Jack crossed the room to stand in front of the slightly taller boy. “You’se going to be a sexy newsboy even with your shirt on.”

Davey blushed and started to put a hand on Jack’s chest, as though he intended to push him away, but didn’t. “Jack?”

“Yes, Davey?”

“What exactly are we doing?”

“Well, I was hoping we were going to have sex.”

“That’s not what I mean. I mean, this,” Davey gestured between the two of them, “what is this to you?”

Jack frowned. “I thought we were dating?”

Davey took a step back. “We are dating, and… and I like you Jack, which is why I need to know. What is this for you?”

Jack took a step forward, put a finger under Davey’s chin, and lifted it until their eyes met. “Davey, you know I ain’t good with words,” he ran his hand up the side of Davey’s face to cup his cheek. “Look, I’m not going to lie to you. I don’t know what this is. I don’t know where this is going. But I like you. I like you a lot. I don’t know if this will last or not, but I know that I don’t want it to end.”

Davey was still looking into his eyes. Jack found himself captivated by the tiny gold flecks he could see. Davey’s voice was a whisper, “But… why me?”

“Why you? Davey, I had my eye on you from the minute we met.” Davey started to say something, but Jack leaned in and pecked him on the lips to stop him. “Let me finish.” He waited for Davey to nod. “You’re beautiful.” Jack gave him another kiss. “You’re so smart.” Kiss. “You’re kind.” Kiss. “And most importantly, you’re willing to put up with my bullshit.”

Davey laughed.

Jack leaned in for another kiss when his phone vibrated. He cursed and pulled it out of his pocket, it was Race. Race never called him, he preferred texting. Jack answered. “Race?”

“Okay, first I need you to promise you won’t be mad.”

“No good conversation has ever started that way, so I promise I will be mad.” Jack heard a popping sound and looked at Davey to see that he was doing something to his ear, he assumed so that he could better eavesdrop on the phone call. Jack shook his head and switched the phone to speaker.

“Okay fine, but at least promise you won’t tell, Davey.”

“I promise  _ I _ won’t tell him.” There was the sound of a commotion in the background. “Racer, where are you?”

“The hospital.”

“What?”

“Spot got hurt. Well, I mean, we both got hurt, but you know.”

“Fuck, how is he? What hospital are you at?”

“NYU Lutheran Medical, and calm down, he’ll be fine.”

“Calm down? Calm down? What the hell are you doing in Brooklyn? Race, tell me you didn’t go to Red Hook without us. Tell me you didn’t drag my, entirely human, brother to look for a warehouse that might be full of sea monsters?”

“Okay, I won’t tell you.”

“Anthony Silvio Higgins!”

Davey dangled Jack’s keys in front of him and motioned him toward the door.

“We’re on our way, don’t go anywhere.”

“You promised you wouldn’t tell Davey!”

“ _ I _ didn’t tell him anything. You did. I never promised I wouldn’t put you on speaker.” Jack disconnected before Race could respond and noticed that Davey also had Jack’s coat in hand and was wearing his own. Somewhere during his conversation with Race, Davey had gathered their things so they could head out. The boy was an angel, how could he even ask why Jack liked him when he did things like that? Right, his brother was in the hospital, it was not the time to dwell on how perfect his boyfriend was. He followed Davey out the door and hit the button for the elevator while Davey locked the door to their suite behind them. It was a good thing Race was already at a hospital, he was going to need it when Jack was done with him.

They rushed to the subway and he’d have gotten on the wrong train if Davey hadn’t stopped him. Jack checked his phone at each subway stop, but the only text he got was a room number, which had to be good. Dead people didn’t get rooms, right? Shit, thinking of dead people made him realize that if he didn’t call Medda, he’d be dead. He tried to call her at the next station, but by the time it started to ring they were pulling into a tunnel and he lost signal.

“Damn it!” He clenched his phone in his hand and there was a crunching sound followed by a sharp pain in his palm.

Davey grabbed his hand and pried it open. A whiff of electrical smoke escaped between his fingers and there was a shard of the screen embedded in his palm. Davey looked around, but no one was paying any attention to them and reached to pull it out.

“No, Davey, we’re going to a hospital anyway, it can—” Davey pulled the shard out before Jack could even finish protesting, and he watched as the edges of the wound knit together the instant it was out. “Oh, right. I forgot about that.” He looked at the ruined phone in his hand. “Shit, the room number!”

“We can ask for it at the desk.” Davey pulled the wreckage of Jack’s phone out of his hand and put it in his jacket pocket, then took Jack’s hand in his.

“What if something happens to him? Now Race can’t call me. I’m such an idiot.”

“Race will call me when he can’t get you.”

Jack clutched Davey’s hand.

It took an hour for them to make it to the hospital and another five minutes to get directed to Spot’s room. He used Davey’s phone to call Medda as they waited for the elevator. It took a few more rings than he was used to before she answered.

“Hello?”

“Ma?”

“Jack, man of mystery, you haven’t called me in weeks. Leaving your poor mama to worry about how college is going.”

“Ma,” Jack couldn’t think of any good way to say what he had to, so just rushed in, “Spot’s in the hospital.”

“What happened?”

The elevator doors opened. Davey followed Jack in and hit the button for Spot’s floor.

“I don’t know, Race called us and we just got to the hospital. We’re going up to see him now.”

He heard a clatter of keys in the background. “What hospital are you at, I’m on my way, baby.”

“NYU Lutheran Medical,” Jack said.

“NYU Langone Brooklyn,” Davey corrected him.

“They only just changed the name, she knows where it is, trust me.”

“Jack, who’s that with you?” Medda asked.

“Davey, my boyfriend.”

Davey stumbled and mouthed the word ‘boyfriend’ at him.

“You have a new boyfriend and you haven’t introduced me yet?”

“Ma, Spot’s in the hospital,” Jack paused as the elevator reached Spot’s floor, “and look at that? Time for us to go visit him. See when you get here, Ma.”

“Jack Kelly, don’t you dare hang—”

Jack ended the call and dashed into the hallway, he started off to the right, but Davey pulled him to the left.

“You’re going to pay for that later.”

“I’ll throw Racer in her path, he deserves it for what he pulled.” Jack wasn’t paying attention to where he was going, and felt a yank on his hand, only then realizing that he’d been clutching onto Davey’s hand since the subway. He spun around to see Davey stopped in front of Spot’s room, which Jack had missed in his rush.

Spot was in the bed, eyes closed and far too pale, with an IV dripping into his arm. Race was in a chair next to the bed, slumped forward with his hands tangled in his curls. Jack rushed to the side of Spot’s bed opposite Race. There were bandages wrapped around Spot’s right arm. 

“Race, what the—” Jack felt Davey’s hand clamp over his mouth and he realized he’d been yelling.

“Race, what happened?” Davey asked, voice just above a whisper. He shot Jack a quelling look before pulling his hand off Jack’s mouth

“It was a trap. Well,  _ it _ wasn’t a trap, there was a trap. A shark, well part of a shark, well just the jaws. In the basement.”

“Why don’t we start with why my brother was with you?” Jack had to resist the urge to reach across the bed and shake Race.

Davey shot Jack another look and then turned back to Race. “How about you take a deep breath and start at the beginning?”

Race took a deep breath, and then another, then leaned back in his chair to meet Davey’s eyes. “Right, the beginning. Well, I couldn’t wait anymore, don’t say anything,” Race pointed at Jack. “But I didn’t know where to start, but I figured there’s no one alive who knows Brooklyn better than Spot. So I told him that I wanted to take up photography and asked him if he knew of any cool looking abandoned buildings in Red Hook.”

“And he didn’t ask why you were interested in Red Hook?” Jack asked.

“‘Course he did, I told him I heard Brooklyn had the best abandoned buildings, and it’s not like he was going to deny Brooklyn being best at anything. But anyhow he told me about this abandoned grain elevator right on the water, sounded perfect. So I went back to our room, googled the place, and went to go, but Spot was waiting for me.”

“Let me guess, he wouldn’t let you go alone,” Davey said, “and wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

Race nodded. “But I really wanted to start looking, and I figured we wouldn’t find anything at the first place we looked, I mean he said Lorde had filmed a music video there, so clearly there wouldn’t be any sea devils there, right? But I figured I could use the time to pump him for information on any other buildings in the area and then come back later with you two.”

“Or alone,” Jack said.

“Maybe.” Race looked down at his hands. “So we go to Red Hook, we find the place, and we sneak in. It’s big, empty, concrete, and full of some big old rusty metal pipes. I don’t know if they’se for vents, moving grain around, or what.” He pulled out his phone and showed them some pictures, including a few graffiti littered doors.

“Not seeing where the shark attack fits in,” Jack said.

“I’m getting there. So we was getting ready to leave, but taking one last look around the first floor, mom’s diary said the ritual they busted up was in the basement, right? So I was looking to see if there were any stairs down. I wasn’t really expecting to find anything. I figured that close to the water any basement would have to be flooded, but then I noticed this symbol on one of the pillars, under the graffiti, and it looked like one of the ones from that weird page we found, right?” He showed them a picture of the pillar and symbol on his phone. “I started trying to figure out what was special about that pillar. I tried pushing the symbol, tracing it, I looked for loose bricks, secret latches, all that sort of thing. Nothing. Then Spot comes over to see what I’m looking at, there’s this click, and the side of the pillar just swings open.”

“It just opened?” Davey asked. “Neither of you did anything to make it happen?”

“No, he walked over, asked me what was going on, I told him to just wait a sec, he gave this big dramatic sigh, turned around, leaned on the pillar, and then the side opened.”

“So Sean touched the pillar and then it opened?” Davey asked.

“Yeah, I guess. See.” He showed them another picture of the same pillar, this time with a hatch open on the side and a ladder visible in the phone-flash. “So I started to go in, he tried to stop me, because he thought it might be, like, a meth lab or something, but he was way too slow to stop me from getting in and climbing down.” Race stopped and looked down at Spot, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I told him not to follow me, but I guess he listens about as well as I do. We climb down, and I was right, the basement is flooded.” He showed them a picture of a dark concrete room, illuminated only by the flash, and flooded up to Spot’s waist. The flash couldn’t illuminate anything through the black door that yawned open behind him. “There was only the one door down there, so I walked through. The place was clearly abandoned. I was just hoping to find some evidence that would for sure confirm it was the place. Suddenly there’s this stabbing pain in my leg.” He pulled a bloody scrap of fabric from his pocket and showed it to them. It was the bottom of a jeans’ leg, or what had been.

Jack leaned over the bed and noticed for the first time that Race was wearing jorts.

Davey took the scrap and held it up to the light, showing damage that could have been caused by either a bear with bad dental hygiene or a blender.

“I freaked out, obviously, and next thing I know Spot is lifting me out of the water like we was just married or something. But the pain’s still there and getting worse, so I look down at my leg and there’s a fucking shark jaw gnawing on my shin!”

“A shark jaw, without the rest of the shark?” Jack tried to inject every bit of skepticism into his voice he could.

Davey squeezed his hand to silence him and motioned for Race to continue.

“Spot grabbed it and managed to pull it off of me, but it started biting up his arm. He dropped me, and by the time I got back up he’d managed to pull the thing apart, but his arm was fucked up. Somehow I managed to get him up the ladder on my back. I called 911, took a picture of the part of the jaw he was still holding, dropped it down the hole, and slammed the door.” He swiped to another picture. There was half of a shark jaw, soaked in blood, there was something carved on it.

Davey took the phone and looked at it, zooming in to get a better look at the sigil. He set the phone down and pulled the small notebook, which he always seemed to have on him, out of his coat pocket.

Jack motioned for Race to continue.

“So I rip off my pant legs so I don’t have to explain why I’m wearing bloody rags but not hurt. The ambulance shows up, we’re both soaked in seawater. Spot’s bloody and going into shock. So I told them he fell into the water and got attacked by a shark. They found a tooth broken off in his arm, so I’m pretty sure they believed me. I called you as soon as we got here.”

Davey picked up Race’s phone, compared it to something in his little book, and hummed to himself.

“So why’s he still unconscious?”

“He isn’t.” Davey said and turned the phone upside down to compare to a new page in his book.

“Figures Dave would be the only one of you three that isn’t an idiot,” Spot said, eyes still closed. “How’d you figure it out?”

“You’re breathing changed when you woke up.”

Spot opened his eyes and pinned each of them with a look. “So, any of you want to tell me why Racer’s leg was damn near gnawed off yet I’m the one in the hospital bed?”

“Because he’s a werewolf and shark jaws aren’t silver, not even enchanted ones.”

Jack and Race both froze and looked at Davey, but Race recovered first and hissed something to Davey in Italian.

“Did you really think there was any conceivable way we were getting out of this without telling Sean everything?”

“Yes?” Race and Jack spoke in unison.

Davey sighed, handed Race’s phone back to him, then looked Spot in the eye. “Look, Sean, I’m sure this is a lot to take in, but I…  _ we _ ,” he gestured between himself and Race, “would really appreciate it if you didn’t mention anything to anyone else. As soon as you’re out of here and back in the dorm, I’ll explain everything.”

Sean narrowed his eyes but nodded.

Jack let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.


	18. Family

Orderlies came to take Sean to surgery for his hand, while the three of them waited for Jack and Sean’s family in the now-empty hospital room. David was hunched over his phone, looking between it and a page in his notebook.

“So flying, biting shark jaws,” Jack said.

“Did you ever actually see them fly, Race?” David asked.

“Not that I remember, but I was a little preoccupied.”

David nodded. “They could probably just swim then.”

“You don’t seem as surprised by an undead shark jaw as I was expecting, Davey.”

“It’s a variation on a fairly standard spell. I’ve only seen it used on bear parts before, but it makes sense fish-men would use shark parts.”

“You’ve actually only seen it used, or is this like the time you said you’d only  _ seen  _ people use magic.” Race asked.

“You are not in any position to be judging other people right now,” Jack said.

David put his hand on Jack’s arm. “You can yell at him later. And no, I’ve  _ actually  _ only seen it done.”

“Look, I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry. But you know how hard it is to stop Spot once he makes up his mind.”

David nodded, he knew it was impossible, and he’d only known Sean for two months. He heard the elevator doors down the hall open, followed by three people getting off. Heavier footsteps, the light footsteps of a child, and a click-step sound that he couldn’t place. Someone on crutches maybe? Wouldn’t the hospital just have them in a wheelchair? The heaviest and lightest steps hurried and stopped in front of Sean’s room.

“Ma.” Jack stood up and was already hugging a buxom Black woman in a lavender dress by the time David looked up. A Latina girl about Les’s age was standing next to her, glaring daggers at Race, and he still heard the person on crutches drawing closer.

She wrapped Jack in her arms. “There, there, baby.” She turned Jack so she only had one arm behind his back and walked with him into the room. She looked at the bed and then at Race. “Where’s Sean?”

Race swallowed before answering. “They took him for surgery, his hand’s pretty messed up.”

She squeezed Jack’s shoulder before releasing him and then swept across the room and pulled Race into another engulfing hug. The hug went on for what David thought was an uncomfortable amount of time. When she finally pulled back there were tear stains on her dress and tears were still streaming down Race’s face. She pulled him into another hug. “Shh, shh honey. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

There was a muffled sob from Race.

David heard the sound of metal hitting cloth from the doorway and looked up to see a light-skinned blond boy whacking Jack’s shins with one of his forearm crutches. He looked to be the same height as Sean.

“Ow, what the fuck, Crutchie.” Jack was hopping on one leg now, holding his shin. He was overselling the amount of pain he was in, even if he’d still been human the pain would’ve already faded.

The boy chuckled. “C’mon, Jack, I didn’t hit ya that hard.” He looked around the room and his eyes settled on David. “Oh, is this the boyfriend?”

Jack’s mom spun to face David, somehow keeping one arm around Race’s shoulders, and reaching out to David with her other hand. “Well don’t just sit there, let me get a good look at you.”

David fought to keep a blush off of his cheeks as he stood up and took a step towards her, everyone in the room now looking at him. He’d never felt so much like a slab of meat in his life. He gave Jack a look that he hoped said, ‘Save me.’

Jack stepped forward. “Ma, this is Davey. Davey, may I introduce Miss Medda Larkin, my mother.”

David stepped forward and held his hand out. “A pleasure.”

Medda ignored his hand and stepped forward to engulf him in a hug. His eyes widened and he stiffened while he fought down a strange sense of panic. It was like being wrapped in a warm blanket, but it was not something he was used to. He guessed she’d sensed his discomfort when she ended the hug and stepped back sooner than he’d expected.

“Oh, this,” Jack hooked his thumb at the boy on crutches, “is my brother Crutchie, and that is my tiny little sister, Smalls,” he pointed to the girl Les’s age.

“I’m sorry, Crutchie?” No one else in the room seemed surprised by the name, but he couldn’t imagine he heard right.

The boy stepped forward, shrugged his arm out of one of the forearm crutches, and held it out. “Jack gave me the name when we was kids. I keep it to make him uncomfortable.” He had a broad smile on his face that David couldn’t help but return. “But you can call me Charlie if you’d prefer.”

David took the hand and shook it. “Nice to meet you, Charlie.”

Smalls stepped forward and sized David up before speaking. “Spot give you the shovel talk yet, or do I need to do it?”

David blinked, unsure of how to respond to that.

Jack coughed and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Actually Spot gave me the shovel talk on behalf of Davey here.”

“Wait, he what?” David asked in shock.

“Yeah, apparently he already loves you more than his own brother.”

Charlie laughed. “Yeah, must’ve taken all of ten minutes.”

“Leave it to the five-two brigade to stick together.”

“Not our fault you’re so freakishly tall.”

“I am exactly average for the country, thank you very much.”

“Boys!” Medda shook her head. “We’re here for Sean, you can fight later.” She turned her attention back to Race, who was better composed. “Now, why don’t we sit down and you can tell us what happened?”

Race nodded and took his former seat, and waited for Medda to sit down next to him. Charlie took the third and final seat in the room, leaving Jack, David, and Smalls to stand. Race glanced at David before starting. David hoped Medda didn’t notice.

“I saw a bunch of urban explorer things online and wanted to go take some pictures of abandoned buildings. Spot mentioned an old grain terminal in Red Hook where some music videos were shot and it sounded perfect. We were, uh, roughhousing near the water and he accidentally fell in. He was swimming for the shore when something grabbed his arm and pulled him under. I managed to pull him out, but his hand was real bad. I called 911, and when we got here the doctor pulled a shark tooth out of it. They don’t know what kind of shark it was yet.”

David didn’t think Race had taken a breath the whole time he was explaining.

Medda nodded and pulled Race into another enveloping hug.

Medda sent them all home just before midnight. Spot was still in surgery, but his life wasn’t in any danger, just his chances of regaining a full range of motion in his hand. Jack had insisted on making sure Charlie and Smalls, who’s real name David still hadn’t learned, got home safely. Which is how David found himself on a bus to Staten Island at 12:30 in the morning, being poked in the ankle by a crutch while Jack slept on his left shoulder, and Race slept on his right.

“Did you want something?” David whispered to the blond boy across the aisle from him.

Charlie’s face split into a broad grin and then his eyes narrowed. “So just what are your intentions toward my brother?”

David resisted the urge to bury his face in the palm of his one free hand, the other being pinned behind Jack and having long ago fallen asleep. “Do we really have to do this now?”

“Oh yeah.” Charlie nodded vigorously.

“Look, I don’t know. We’re dating. What type of answer are you looking for here?”

“Have the two of you fucked?”

David made a noise that was halfway between choking and squawking that he would never admit sounded like a strangled chicken.

Charlie’s eyes widened. “You totally have.”

David tried and failed not to blush.

Charlie guffawed, actually guffawed. David didn’t think he’d ever heard an actual guffaw before. Smalls stirred in her sleep, cuddled up against Charlie’s side, and he bit his knuckle to keep himself from laughing more.

“Do you love him?” Charlie asked.

“I’ve known him for two months.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Look, it’s impossible to know if you’re in love with someone until you’ve been together for at least four months.”

“Says who?”

“People.”

“Which people?”

“Scientists.”

“Really?” Charlie pulled a phone out of his pocket and started typing something. “Let’s just see about that.”

“What are you doing?”

“Proving you wrong.” Charlie poked at his screen. “Let’s see, on average it takes eighty-eight days for a guy to first say it, but,” he scrolled down whatever article he was reading, “it only takes three seconds to be attracted to someone and you can fall in love in,” he whistled, “one-fifth of a second.” Charlie looked up and straight into David’s eyes, an insufferable grin plastered on his face. “So, do you love him?”

“There is literally no way I’m answering that question.”

“Because you totally love him.”

David resisted the urge to scream while Charlie chuckled to himself.

“Time to wake up Sleeping Beauty and Sleeping Butthead. We’re the next stop.”

David nodded. He prodded Race in the side until he started to stir, then turned, and after making sure Charlie was paying attention, kissed Jack on the lips.

Jack returned the kiss as he blinked awake. David pulled back to see Jack smiling at him before he looked out the window. “Almost there, good.” He leaned over and gave David a quick kiss. “Signal for the stop, would you, Davey?”

David pushed the tape strip to signal the driver while Jack stood up and scooped Smalls’s sleeping form into his arms.

David stood up, grabbing the bar for stability, and prodded Race again, he’d fallen back asleep. Race tried to shrug him off, but the bus stopped, and without David to lean on he fell over onto the seat, which did wake him up.

Race sat up, rubbing his head. “Could’ve let me know we was here, Daves.”

David rolled his eyes and followed Charlie off the bus.

Jack followed them, Smalls still asleep in his arms.

Race took too long, walked into the closing doors, and had to shout at the driver to get them opened again before he could get off.

David, Jack, and Charlie all took a second to stare at him, then turned and started walking down the sidewalk, David following Jack since he was the only one who didn’t know where they were going. Jack fell back and bumped his arm into David’s.

“It’s almost 1 a.m.,” Jack said.

David nodded and fought down a yawn at the reminder.

“You okay with staying here tonight? You can see my room.”

“Does it smell as bad as your dorm room?” David made the most over-the-top disgusted face he could.

Jack laughed before answering. “I’m sure it’s way worse.”

“Don’t worry, Davey, Ma went through and found all the rotting food and unwashed underwear the minute he left for the dorms,” Charlie called back to them.

“What? She didn’t!” Jack gasped and mimed fainting. “Catch me, Davey.”

David laughed and shoved him away. “Can you promise Charlie won’t stab me in my sleep?”

“He won’t stab you. Stabbing is Spot’s thing, Crutchie’s more into bludgeoning weapons.”

Charlie moved his arm back and tried to whack Jack in the shins with one of his crutches, but Jack was ready and jumped behind David.

“See?”

“So what’s your preferred type of weapon?” David asked.

“Me? I’m the rootinest, tootinest, sharpshootinest cowboy you’ll ever meet.”

“Have you ever even held a gun, Cowboy?” Race chimed in from behind them.

“No, but if I was going to murder someone.”

David let out a sound, but even he wasn’t sure if it was a laugh or a groan. “I should’ve listened to my parents and gone to Arizona State with my sister.”

Jack laughed but gave David a sad smile.

The house they approached was bigger than David had expected, although when he stopped to think about it, David realized Medda had to be reasonably well off to have adopted four kids, and those four kids would need a pretty big house. Charlie unlocked the door and Jack followed him and went directly up the stairs, to put Smalls to bed David assumed.

Charlie pointed at Race with the end of one of his crutches. “You can sleep on the couch.” He turned and started up the stairs. “Follow me, Davey, I’ll show you where Jack’s room is.” David followed Charlie up the stairs, surprised at how fast the boy could take them. Charlie stopped at the second door on the left and opened it. “Here ya go. That one’s the bathroom.” He gestured at a door on the opposite side of the hall, across from the first door they’d passed, and then headed back towards that first door and went in.

David turned around and flicked the light on before walking into Jack’s room. He felt like he’d been transported back to where he grew up. The walls were covered with desert vistas — unframed oil paintings, pastel drawings, and charcoal sketches covered every wall. He stepped into the room and focused his attention on the biggest canvas. It didn’t look like anywhere in Arizona, but it was definitely somewhere in the Southwest, assuming it was a real place at all.

There was a standing lamp in the corner of the room with a cowboy hat sitting on top. David walked over, and after considering for a moment, picked it up and looked at it. It was plastic and from a children’s Halloween costume.

“It’s mine.” Jack’s voice came from behind him.

“I assumed,” David said.

“My mom bought me that costume when I was five.” Jack crossed the room and took the hat from David’s hand. “She died before I got to wear it.”

“I’m sorry.” David reached out and tangled his fingers with Jack’s. “Do you mind if I ask—”

“How?” Jack shrugged. “My dad.”

“Did you—”

“See it? Yeah. I got to be the prosecution’s star witness as a five-year-old.” Jack set the hat back down on the lamp where it had been.

David put his hand under Jack’s chin and tipped his head up so he could see his eyes. “I’m so, so sorry, Jackie.”

Jack nodded and backed away. “Let’s just get some sleep.”

David woke up lying on his back with Jack twined around him. When they shared a bed in the dorms they had to cuddle together, but Jack’s at home was a queen bed, so they had plenty of room. There was light leaking past the closed blinds, but David couldn’t guess the time, and his phone was on Jack’s desk. He considered getting up, but he didn’t want to disturb Jack, even if his arm was asleep under him again.

He tilted his head to the side so he could try to see Jack’s face, where he was using David’s chest as a pillow. He couldn’t get a good view and gave up when his neck started to ache but was struck by how much younger Jack looked when he was asleep. He’d wondered about it before but thought he understood it more now. Jack was good at laughing stuff off and acting like nothing got to him, but the minute something serious happened... he cared so much, especially about his family. David could sort of understand, he cared about his family too, of course, but he knew that, except for Les, they could all more than take care of themselves. He’d never had to worry about one of them being sent to the hospital, never seen one family member kill another. He tried to imagine what that must’ve been like. David knew he didn’t have the best relationship with his parents, his father in particular, but he couldn’t imagine losing either of them, let alone losing one to the other.

David wasn’t sure how long he’d been lying there thinking about Jack when he felt a kiss pressed against the underside of his jaw. He smiled and turned his head down to meet Jack’s lips for a moment. “Good morning.”

Jack’s arms squeezed him tight. “Morning.”

“I like your room, very Southwestern.”

“Haha.” Jack disentangled himself from David and sat up. He looked around the room at his pictures. “After my mom died and I wound up in the foster system I kind of went hard on the cowboy thing. Told everyone my mom was waiting for me in Santa Fe. Started drawing it any chance I could get. ‘Course, I never actually been there, so most of my earlier stuff,” he gestured at some sketches on the far wall, “are just made up.”

David sat up and wrapped his arms around Jack, not saying anything.


	19. Pancakes

Jack and Davey took a quick shower together. Jack had left plenty of clothes at home when he moved to the dorms. Jack was a bit shorter than Davey though, and Jack’s pants would’ve looked ridiculous on him, so he was forced to wear the same pants from the day before, not that that was a new experience for him, and paired it with a pullover hoodie from Jack’s highschool. Jack had never seen Davey in a hoodie before, his usual style was very put together — button-up shirts, slacks or nice jeans, and often a vest. The hoodie made him look different, softer, when he was normally all angles and lithe muscle. Jack thought he could definitely get used to it.

They went downstairs together. Race was still passed out on the couch, and there was no sign of Crutchie or Smalls. He was pretty sure Medda spent the night at the hospital with Spot, so he headed to the kitchen and started pulling out the ingredients for pancakes. Davey sat down on a stool at the kitchen’s island and watched him.

“Oh sure, let me slave away over the stove,” Jack said.

“I wouldn’t want to get in your way.”

“You just don’t want to get in a flour fight with me.”

“Not in your mother’s kitchen, the morning after meeting her.”

“Yeah, sorry about springing the whole family on you like that.”

“It’s not your fault, Jack. Sean’s in the hospital, of course the rest of your family would be there.”

Jack set a bowl and some eggs in front of Davey. “Make yourself useful, while I plot how I’m going to kill Race.”

“It’s not Race’s fault.” Davey held up his hand before Jack could protest. “Not entirely. Should he have gone to Red Hook without us? No. Was I right about it being dangerous? Yes. But there’s really no stopping Sean once he makes up his mind to help you.”

Jack sighed and focused on measuring sugar. He knew Davey was right, but he really wanted someone to be mad at for the whole thing, and Race made himself such an easy target. He gathered the bowl of eggs from in front of Davey, and directed him to put the shells in the trash. He handed the mixing bowl to Davey. “Here, stir this.”

Davey looked at the bowl with obvious skepticism and started mixing the batter with the whisk he provided, while Jack pulled out his ma’s electric griddle. Once it was plugged in and warming up, he took the bowl of gloopy mixture from Davey and whisked the ingredients together himself. “You’re kind of hopeless in a kitchen aren’t you? Didn’t think there was anything you couldn’t do.”

Davey shrugged. “My mother is territorial over her kitchen. Very territorial. My dad tried to sneak a taste of the Thanksgiving turkey,  _ once _ . She cut off his hand.”

Jack swallowed. “I can’t tell if you're joking or not.”

Race walked into the kitchen, rubbing at his eyes. “Could you two make any more noise?”

Jack pointed a batter covered whisk at him. “You don’t get to speak yet. I’m still mad at you. One more word outta you and no pancakes.”

Race mimed zipping his mouth shut and sat down next to Davey.

Jack sprayed the griddle down, started some pancakes cooking, and went looking for a spatula. It wasn’t where it should’ve been. “Did ma rearrange the drawers again?”

Race started to say something, but stopped himself and nudged Davey. When Davey turned to look Race pantomimed something and gestured at Jack.

Davey rolled his eyes but turned to Jack. “I believe the forsaken one over here, wants me to ask how you expect either of us, who do not live here, to answer that?”

Race nodded.

“That counts as talking, Race. This is your last warning.”

Race glared at the counter and sulked.

There was no reason for all of them to go back to the hospital right away, so after breakfast, Race headed back to the hospital, while Jack and Davey headed back to the dorms to get both of them a change of clothes.

“Damn, I still need a new phone too,” Jack said when he went to plug his wreck into charge. “And maybe a sturdier case. This going to happen to me a lot?”

“Heightened emotions, especially anger, can force a shift. And you are… very in touch with your emotions.”

“So that’s a yes?”

“It’s not a no.”

Jack stared at the broken glass and electronics in his hand. “I had pictures on it.”

“You didn’t back them up?”

“I didn’t set up the account.” Jack turned it over. “You think maybe someone could get them off of it still?”

David shrugged. “Race would be more likely to know.”

“Or Crutchie, wish I’d thought of it while we were still at Ma’s.” Jack stopped. “Or of the fact that I owe him a soaking.”

“Why do you need to beat up your little brother?”

“Look, what do you think the odds are of two brothers being randomly assigned to the same dorm suite?”

“I just assumed you did it to annoy Sean.”

Jack banged his head against the wall and let out a short scream.

“I’ll take that as a no?”

Davey rolled his eyes. “How long is this going to take?”

“Look, I need a good camera, but if this is going to be a regular thing, then I can’t afford to keep buying iPhones.” Jack held two phones out to show Davey. “Which one?”

“They’re the same phone, Jack.”

“You need your eyes checked? This one is black, this one is silver.”

“Aren’t you just going to put it in a case?”

“Yeah, but right now I’m trying to choose the color of the phone, we’ll choose the color of the case after.”

Davey just stared at him and then shook his head.

Jack agonized for a while longer before choosing the silver phone and heading toward the cases. Davey intercepted him and shoved a case into his hand. It was green. “Green?”

“It matches your eyes.”

Jack blushed and accepted the case.

“After you buy these we need to go to Red Hook.”

“What? Why?”

Davey looked around the shop to make sure no one was nearby, then leaned in and spoke just above a whisper. “Race found a spell, it should let us find out what happened, but we’ll need something from that building. Either you and I can go get it, or we can wait for Race to realize what he needs and go back alone.”

“Well, when you put it like that.” Jack headed for the register.

By the time they got to the grain elevator an hour later, he was well and truly sick of public transportation. If he hadn’t just had to buy a new phone he’d have insisted they take an Uber, but his student loans only left him with so much to live on.

Jack spotted the pillar from Race’s picture and pointed at it. “Over there.”

Davey nodded and they approached it with caution. There was dried blood spattering the floor near it, Spot’s. Davey took a deep breath and brushed his hand over the graffiti smothered sigil on the pillar, nothing happened and he exhaled.

Jack stepped forward and traced it with his fingers, but nothing happened when he touched it either. “What do you think made it open for them?”

“He said it opened when Sean leaned against it, maybe it takes more weight.” Davey tried leaning against the mark and pushing on it, but nothing happened.

Jack tried too, but with no more success. “Maybe it only opens for Spot,” he joked.

Davey made a humming sound but didn’t laugh. “Well, a sample from the pillar should be good enough.” He looked around, confirming they were alone. “Keep watch.”

Jack headed over to where he could see the door. He heard bones popping behind him, followed by a sound like nails on a chalkboard, but deeper. Jack couldn’t stop the shudder down his spine at the sound, and the sudden feeling of being watched. He spun around once, and again while looking at the upper levels, but they were still alone.

There were more cracking sounds from Davey, and then he joined him. Davey held up a plastic baggie with some concrete dust in it.

“Good, this place gives me the creeps. Let’s get out of here.”

Davey held up his hand. “One more thing, we can’t leave Sean’s blood here.”

Jack watched Davey head back to the pillar, point at the blood spatters on the ground, and whisper something under his breath that Jack couldn’t make out.

A bolt of red light ripped out of Davey’s hand and crashed into the blood spatters like a bolt of bloody lightning. The blood ignited and burned away to nothing in seconds, leaving only scorched concrete.

“What the hell was that?”

“Um. What did it look like?”

“A spell out of fucking Dungeons and Dragons.”

“Probably way more dangerous than that, and I don’t like to use it, because I don’t know what the cost is.”

“What do you mean you don’t know what the cost is?”

“Like I said before, magic always has a cost. Like the spell I used to speed up your change required our blood.”

“Didn’t that one just require blood?”

“No. I used it to clean up the blood, but it didn’t require the blood. Costs are paid upfront. That spell,” Davey gestured back at the scorched ground, “cost me something, but I don’t know what it was. I don’t like using it, it’s easy, too easy, but leaving blood where some cult might find it is dangerous, so I risked it. Please don’t mention this to Race, keeping him from making dumb mistakes with this is hard enough already.” Davey paused and took a shallow breath. “Especially since I’m not even sure I’m not making dumb mistakes.”

Jack nodded and reached out for Davey’s hand. “Come on, we should get to the hospital, Race must smell horrible by now.”

It was just Spot and Race in the room when they got there. Spot’s right hand was in a plaster cast and resting on a pair of pillows.

“Where’s Ma?” Jack asked upon entering the room.

“She went home to shower.”

“Speaking of which.” Davey pulled a change of clothes out of his backpack and tossed them to Race. “We brought a set for whenever they let you out of here too.” He set the backpack down next to Spot’s bed.

“Thanks, Dave.”

“Any idea when that might be?” Jack grabbed the chart from the foot of his brother’s bed and flipped through it. It might as well have been in Greek.

“Not sure. They said one to four days. They’se pumping me full of antibiotics, god only knows what bacteria were in that water.” He paused and pinned each of them with a glare. “Or in that shark’s mouth.”

Jack put the chart back and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Yeah, right.”

“How bad is it?” Davey asked.

“Not as bad as most shark attacks. It didn’t have the chance to get much gnawing done, the surgery was to reattach some tendons that got severed.”

Davey blanched. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“It could be worse. Should only be six months until I regain the full range of motion.”

“Ouch. Spot, that sucks,” Jack said.

“Daves, what if you,” Race made biting motions towards Spot.

Spot’s eyes widened and darted toward the door. He held up his hands. “Woah. Hold up.” He pointed at Race. “I’m not sure what the fuck that means, but I think I’ve got enough bite wounds at the moment.”

Davey nodded. “He’s right. Besides, it doesn’t fix scars or old injuries, I have no idea what it would do to an unhealed one. Maybe it would fix it, or maybe it would lock it as is, forever.”

Spot pointed at Davey. “See, that sounds bad. So keep your teeth in your mouth, Racetrack.”

“I’m just trying to help you, you stubborn ass!” Race pushed back from the side of Spot’s bed and leaned on the wall. “I owe you for helping me yesterday. Never woulda even found that place without you.”

“And you might have gotten eaten by the ghost of a shark.”

Race shrugged. “Nah. I mean you spared me a lot of pain, but it wasn’t strong enough to kill me. Just woulda been a  _ lot  _ of blood.” He looked up at Davey. “You know—”

“No, Race.”

“Come on, Daves. I know I saw a healing spell in the  _ Revelations _ .”

“No.”

“Wait, there’s fucking spells now? What type of bullshit did Race get you two into?” Spot asked.

Race made an outraged sound. “Me? Davey’s in charge.”

“If I was in charge, Sean wouldn’t be here,” Davey said.

“Oh fine, pile on me. It’s not like I don’t already feel bad enough about this.” Race gestured down at Spot’s hand.

“Not as bad as I do,” Spot said.

Race slid down the wall and sat on the floor. “You think I don’t know that? Which is why I owe it to you to find a way to help you.”

Davey sighed, crossed the room, and joined Race on the floor. “I know you do. But any spell you found in  _ those  _ books isn’t going to be something you want to try on a human. Did you miss the part that describes the writers of the book?”

Race deflated further. “No, they’se zombies.”

“What. The. Fuck. Are you three involved in?” Spot asked.

Davey opened his mouth but stopped when a nurse came in to check on Spot’s IV. No one spoke until he left.

Davey eyed the door, turning his ear toward it, and speaking in a soft voice. “This is too public, but I promise, as soon as you’re back in the dorm, we’ll explain everything.” Spot looked like he was about to demand more, but Davey cut him off. “Now smile for your mom.”

Jack turned and Medda walked right in. He really needed to learn how Davey did that.


	20. It’s About Fucking Time

Sean was still in the hospital on Monday, the day before the full moon. Race took Sean’s homework to his classes, even the ones they didn’t already share. He hadn’t left the hospital again until Sunday night, and when he did get back to the dorm he did all of Sean’s laundry.

David spent the afternoon going over the spell Race had found, grateful that Race was distracted enough by Sean’s injury to not be hounding him over it yet. It was definitely only a matter of time before he remembered why they’d gone to Red Hook in the first place. He fidgeted with the bag of concrete flakes as he read it over for what felt like the five-hundredth time. It was complicated, more complicated than anything he’d ever attempted. He hoped Race was as good at math as he claimed, the diagram was going to have to be exact. The biggest problem was that they were going to need to find somewhere to perform it. Somewhere big enough for the diagram, remote enough that strange sights and sounds wouldn’t be reported, and that no one would stumble upon for the days it would take them to prepare the site. Yeah, that should be super easy to find in Manhattan.

Race walked into the room, carrying a grocery bag, and started putting food in their minifridge.

“Are you moving in?” David asked.

Race looked at him in confusion, and then down at the bag. “Oh, no. I just thought Spot would appreciate not having to go food shopping when he gets back.”

David watched Race try to fit a giant box of Lucky Charms into the minifridge and fail.

“He’s still able to go shopping, and even if he wasn’t, I can still do the shopping.”

Race took out some of David’s leftover pizza to shove a gallon of milk in.

“That’s my food, Race.”

“Better eat it now then, need to make sure he has his favorite food available when he gets back.” Race pulled a package of paper bowls out of the bag followed by a box of plastic spoons and put them on top of the microwave.

David rolled his eyes and picked the paper towel wrapped slices off the floor. “Don’t you think you’re taking this a little far?”

“No? I mean, it’s my fault he got hurt, so it’s my job to help him until he’s better.”

David rolled his eyes, but kept himself from saying any of the things he was thinking, and settled on asking something practical.

“I don’t suppose you’ve got a nice big secluded house somewhere?”

Race blinked and looked up at him. “What?”

David unwrapped his spoiling pizza. “We’re going to need somewhere to perform your spell. At least,” he paused to check his notes, “20 feet by 20 feet, and somewhere no one will find it for two weeks.”

“Two weeks?”

“The diagram is going to be a nightmare to lay out. Also, and I speak from experience here, it either needs to be soundproof or far enough from anyone that loud noises won’t be noticed.”

“Oh, is that all?”

“You’re the one who found the spell. And no, that’s not all. There’s probably going to be a lot of strange lights.” David checked his notes again and then compared them to the copy of the spell on his phone. “Oh, and we’re going to need a goat?”

“A goat?”

David nodded. “Preferably a Sagitarrius.”

“The goat has to be a specific sign?” Race sat down on Sean’s bed, facing him, and pulled out his own phone. “I don’t remember any mention of that in here.”

“Well, it doesn’t specifically say a goat. But it calls for, and I quote, ‘a lively offering to the great god Daoloth in accordance with the boon requested.’”

“‘Lively’ means it has to be alive?”

“Well, when the ritual starts.”

“Why does it have to be a goat?”

“Well, if you look later in the book it gives some examples of how big an offering needs to be made for various time frames. And I compared that to  _ Liber Ivonis  _ and we’ll need at least a goat.”

“Preferably a Sagittarius?”

“That’ll make it more effective. But if you happen to have a small cow or large ram handy?”

“We have to sacrifice a goat?”

“ _ You _ have to sacrifice a goat.”

“I don’t know if I can do that. Why can’t you do it?”

“Sympathies.”

“You think I’m not going to feel bad about having to do it?”

“Not that kind of sympathy.” David shook his head. “You didn’t really pay a lot of attention to what you were reading, did you?”

“I thought I did. None of this is mentioned in there.”

“Then it’s a good thing you know me. We’re trying to look back at  _ your  _ parents,  _ you  _ have a blood connection to them, so it’s best if  _ you  _ perform the spell. I’ll help you, but it has to be you.”

“Shit.”

David nodded. “So, any ideas of somewhere we can do it?”

“In Manhattan?” Race fell backward on Sean’s bed and hummed to himself. “I can’t think of anywhere. There’s a few abandoned places, but nowhere that urban explorers on the internet don’t know about.” He scrolled through the ritual again on his phone and looked at the diagram. “You sure this has to be 20 feet across?”

“607 centimeters, so just under.”

“Where’d you find places to do magic before?”

“Well, in the suburbs you can usually find a house for sale with a nice big garage. Still had to burn one down when things went wrong.”

Race sat up and stared at him. “Wait, you, David Jacobs, committed arson?”

David blushed and looked away. “Just the once.”

“Do your parents know?”

“No!” David held up his hands. “And you are officially never meeting them.”

David was already antsy when he walked into his chemistry lecture. The full moon didn’t affect him as much as Race or Jack anymore, but his senses were still keyed up, and the constant din of life on campus and the smells of New York City were proving stressful. Louis was waiting for him, had been at every lecture since the accident with the silver nitrate. It was weird. They’d never spoken outside of the lab before that, and their conversations since were stilted and awkward. Sometimes, when he caught Louis looking at him with a strange frown on his face, he wondered if the one-eyed boy somehow knew what he was, which would be a nightmare. It hadn’t even been a month and another human already knew about them. He was beginning to understand why the packs took such a hardline stance on things. He hoped Sean would agree to the bite, not that they could risk it until his hand was fully healed.

David went to sit down and paused. There was a strange smell, he checked himself, but the musky scent wasn’t coming from him. He sniffed as he sat down next to Louis. “Do you have a cat?”

Louis blinked, or winked, it was impossible to tell, and smelled himself. “No. I live in the dorms. You’re not related to Jack Kelly, are you?”

It was David’s turn to blink. “Not related, no. He’s my suitemate.”

“No shit? Spot’s roommate?” Louis stopped and gave him a sly smile “Jack’s new boyfriend?”

David nodded.

“I’m the ex. The most recent ex anyway. We broke up at the end of Senior Year. Anyway, he accused my new boyfriend of smelling like an old cat lady.”

David wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Jack and Louis had dated? He knew Jack had dated people before him, but it hadn’t ever come up and he wasn’t sure how to deal with being confronted with one of his exes. “Oh, do you see Jack often?”

“Me, him, and Mush, my boyfriend, have lunch once or twice a week. Oh, we’re meeting for lunch today after class. You should come with, bet that’ll surprise him.”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” David took his notebook out and noticed another odd smell in the lecture hall, but Professor Jones-Johnson started the lecture before he could even try to analyze it, and he soon forgot all about it while taking notes.

At the end of the lecture, Louis waited while David packed up his bag and then led him toward a nearby dining hall, where they got in the growing line. It was David’s first time in one of the campus dining halls, he’d been saving money, and his taste buds, by grocery shopping.

“Is it always this… appealing?” David asked.

Louis looked at the overcooked, almost burned, fried chicken and the gelatinous mass of mashed potatoes on his plate. “Pretty average, yeah.”

David made a face but accepted his plate, and followed Louis to the registers to pay. “Are you sure it’s legal for them to charge for this?”

Louis shook his head. “Probably not, but ya gotta eat something.”

“I’m not sure this counts.”

Louis waited while David paid and then pointed at a table across the room. Jack and a handsome Latino boy a little taller than Jack were seated opposite each other there, picking at their chicken. David moved so they could approach Jack from behind, and signaled Louis to be quiet.

Louis sat down.

Jack nodded at him, picked up a drumstick, and considered it.

“You eat this way all the time?” David asked, from his place right behind Jack.

Jack jumped and let out a sound David wished he had a recording of.

David bent down and kissed the top of Jack’s head, before swinging around to take the seat opposite Louis.

Jack smiled at him and leaned in for a quick kiss. “You taste a lot better than this chicken.”

David blushed, and looked down at his own plate.

“What’re you doing here?”

“Apparently, you used to date my lab partner?” David gestured across the table at Louis with a plastic fork full of potato goop.

“Blink is your lab partner?” Jack looked from David to Louis, then back at David. “Wait, the one who spilled that shit on you last month?”

“Hey, I apologized for that, and it’s not like anyone knew he had some rare allergy,” Louis said.

Jack shot a glare at Louis but then turned back to his lunch with a grumble.

“Hey, I’m Mush.” The Latino boy held his hand out to David.

David rubbed his hands on a napkin and shook Mush’s hand, then turned to Jack. “Do you know anyone who doesn’t have a weird nickname?”

Jack pretended to consider before answering. “You, my Ma, and… that’s it. I’d like to point out that Mush here came prenamed.”

“Wait, you haven’t given David here a nickname yet?” Blink asked. “You’re slipping, Cowboy.”

“I just ain’t thought of one for Davey yet. It’ll come to me.”

“I’m good, really,” David said and took a deep breath, preparing to try the chicken, and froze for an instant in shock. His eyes darted to Mush and then back to his chicken. He took a bite, but couldn’t tell if the cardboard taste was from the poor quality or panic. He hoped Mush hadn’t noticed, but he doubted it.

“I wouldn’t think they’d let you use any dangerous chemicals in first-year chemistry, what did you spill on him?” Mush asked Louis.

David felt his heart fall.

“Blink can’t remember breakfast, you think he remembers a class from a month ago?” Jack tried to deflect the question.

“Hey! Gimme some credit, I remember what my lab partner is deathly allergic too.” Louis turned to Mush, and David wished he had some way to shut him up. “It was silver nitrate.”

David was already watching Mush’s eyes when they widened and darted to meet his. David narrowed his eyes, and Mush’s eyes moved to Jack and then back to David. David gave a slight nod, there was no point in hiding now. Mush looked back down at his food, he knew he was outnumbered, and would know the moon phase just as well as David did. David looked at Jack and Louis, neither of them seemed to have noticed the silent conversation.

“So what was that about?” Jack asked him on the way back to the dorm.

“What was what about?”

“You and Mush making eyes at each other.”

David frowned, Jack wasn’t as oblivious as he’d thought. He could only hope Louis was.

Jack nudged his shoulder.

David looked around at the crowded sidewalk. “Louis said you accused Mush of smelling like a cat lady?”

“Did you not notice what he smells like? He must spend all his time at a vet clinic.”

“You need to think a bit bigger.”

“Bigger?”

“You noticed Mush and I looking at each other, but can’t figure out what’s bigger than a house cat?” David asked. The sidewalk was still too busy for him to just say it out loud. “Think large American cats.”

Jack froze and fell behind him.

David reached back and pulled Jack forward by his hand.

“Wait, you mean I been having lunch with a…?”

“Yes, and now he knows about the two of us.”

“Shit.” Jack twined their fingers together. “Shit. What do we do?”

“I have no idea. Is he from New York?”

“No, well, at least he said he’s from San Diego, which I guess would make sense if he’s a…” Jack made a twirling gesture with his free hand. “What’s he doing this far north though?”

“If I had to guess, the same thing I am.” He stopped, pulling Jack to a stop with him. “We cannot tell Race.”

“Why not?”

David turned to face him and just stared at him.

“Right, because he’ll run off half-cocked and get himself or someone else hurt, again.”

David nodded and pulled Jack along toward the dorm.

“So, what do we do?”

“I still have no idea. Let’s just get through the full moon, oh and telling your brother everything first. We can worry about Mush on Friday.”

Jack nodded, and they walked back to the dorm hand-in-hand.

They could hear raised voices coming from their room when they got off the elevator.

“Guess Spot’s home.”

David nodded and pulled out his room key.

“— date werewolves!” Sean was yelling just as David opened the door.

David shoved Jack in and closed the door behind them, hoping their neighbors hadn’t heard. He turned to see Race and Sean in his room, their faces close to each other and red from shouting. Sean had a new blue plastic cast wrapping his hand and wrist.

“No!” Race said.

Jack opened his mouth to say something, but David slapped his hand over it and shook his head.

“Maybe.” Race looked from Sean towards his feet. “Probably.”

Sean let out a sound of frustration and stomped across the room away from Race and spun around. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Race’s head shot back up and he was glaring daggers at Sean. “What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? You asked me out, I turned you down, why did you keep pining after me?”

“Because I could tell you didn’t fucking mean it.”

“Oh, I meant it.”

“Did you? Did you really?”

Race let a sound of frustration, very much like the one Sean had just made, stomped across the room, reached out his hand, fisted it in the front of the shorter boy’s shirt, and yanked him forward, with what would have been surprising strength if he’d been human, into a bruising kiss.

David steered Jack towards the door to the other bedroom and followed him inside.

“Well, it’s about fucking time.” Was the first thing Jack said.

David nodded and looked Jack up and down.

“They’re probably going to be busy for a while.” Jack rubbed at the back of his neck and looked up to meet David’s eyes.

David nodded again and locked the door behind them.

Jack smiled. “We should probably do something to pass the time.”

David walked forward, maneuvering Jack towards his bed.


	21. Never Let a Dog Go Unpetted

Someone was pounding on the door.

Jack and Davey were cuddling on his bed, his arms wrapped around Davey’s waist and his head tucked under the taller boy’s chin.

Jack turned his head and called over his shoulder, “Who is it?”

“Who do you think, dumbass. You two owe me answers,” Spot said.

“And my key is in there, no fair locking me out of my own room,” Race added.

“I thought they’d take longer,” Davey whispered in his ear.

Jack turned his attention back to Davey, while the pounding on the door resumed. “I certainly hope they just made out, otherwise we’re both rooming with some real minutemen.”

Davey laughed and looked over Jack’s shoulder to the door. “We should probably get dressed and let them in.”

Jack wrapped his arms tighter around Davey. “But I’m comfortable.”

“Incorrigible.” Davey placed a kiss on the tip of Jack’s nose.

Jack heard some scratching at the lock followed by the door opening. “You know Ma hates it when you pick locks.”

“She’ll get over it when I tell her you locked your roommate out.”

Jack shrugged. “He should’ve brought his key with him.”

“Hey,” Race said, and a pillow collided with his back.

“You two are naked again, aren’t you?” Spot asked.

Davey kicked the sheets off of them, letting Spot see that they were, in fact, naked.

“What the fuck, Dave?” Spot sounded shocked.

“You’re rooming with three werewolves, get used to it.” Davey sat up and started looking for his pants.

“Three?” Spot turned and focused a glare on Jack. “Now I know you sure as fuck weren’t a werewolf when we was growing up.”

“Well, technically first changes are usually around thirteen,” Race said.

Spot shot the blond a look that shut him up and focused back on Jack.

Jack looked down at the floor. “This is only my second full moon.” He looked back up and met his brother’s gaze. “But Race and I were rooming together when he first changed, so I’ve had plenty of time to get used to the idea.”

“You’ve known for four fucking years and didn’t tell me?”

“It wasn’t mine to tell,” Jack said.

“And you?” Spot turned his attention on Davey, who was pulling on his pants.

“Natural born, same as Race.”

“Only no one murdered his parents so he didn’t freak out when he first changed,” Race said.

Spot spun to face Race. “Murdered?”

“Yeah. We found my mom’s diary. The last entry said they fought some fish-monsters,” it was Race’s turn to find his shoes fascinating, “in an abandoned building in Red Hook.”

“So you didn’t suddenly decide to become a photographer?” Spot asked.

“No.”

“You,” Spot pointed at Jack, “put some fucking clothes on. You,” he pointed at Davey, “supervise him without fucking him, and bring him to our room. And you,” he grabbed Race by the ear, spun him around, and marched him out of the room.

“That went better than I expected,” Jack said.

“Honestly? Me too,” Davey said. “Now put on your pants.”

Jack grumbled but complied after he’d found them. They’d somehow wound up under Race’s bed. Davey tossed a shirt at him, it wasn't the one he’d been wearing earlier, but he had no idea where that one had gone. He pulled it on while Davey buttoned up his shirt.

“Ready to face the music?” Davey asked.

“This? This ain’t facing the music. Facing the music is what happens if Medda ever finds out.”

Davey tried to conceal a tiny flinch as he walked out of the room. Jack followed him to his and Spot’s room, where they found Spot sitting on his bed, and Race sitting on Davey’s. Spot motioned them to seats on either side of Race, and they complied.

“So, werewolves?” Spot raised an eyebrow and looked down the line of their eyes.

“Oborotni,” Davey said.

“Gesundheit,” Spot said.

“We’re not werewolves, we’re oborotni.”

“What’s the difference?”

“One is our name, one is not.”

“Fine.” Spot looked back down the line of them, sitting like children being scolded by their father. “So, oborotni?”

They all shrugged.

“Which one of you two idiots, bit idiot number three here.” Spot pointed first at Davey and Race, and then at Jack. “Assuming that’s how it works, of course.”

“It is and I did,” Davey said.

“I take back ever thinking you were too good for him. You’re both idiots.”

Davey snorted.

“Gee, thanks for your approval, bro,” Jack said.

Spot gave him the finger without looking away from Davey. “So?”

“Right.” Davey shook his head to clear it. “We can turn into wolves, but only around the full moon. It’s hard not to change on the night of the full moon. Harder for some of us than others.” Davey and Jack both turned to look at Race between them.

“Well fuck you two too,” Race said.

Jack laughed and slung an arm around Race’s shoulders. Spot narrowed his eyes at Jack, and he snatched his arm back as if it had been burned.

“Put that arm back,” Race said, “Shortstop does not decide who gets to show me affection.”

Jack put his arm back around Race’s shoulders but avoided looking anywhere close to his brother. He was pretty sure he could only imagine the sound of Spot’s teeth grinding as Davey launched into the full explanation, which took most of an hour with all of Spot’s interruptions to ask questions. It wasn’t long before sunset when Davey finished.

“Yup, you three are idiots,” was all Spot said when Davey had finished.

Davey looked affronted, but Race and Jack just nodded their agreement.

“So, now what? You going to bite me?”

Davey shook his head. “Not unless you want it, definitely not until your hand is better, and if it does come to that, Race can do it.”

“Me?”

“Your fault, your problem to fix.”

Race made an outraged noise and pushed off the bed to go sit next to Spot.

Jack took advantage of the space left to slide closer to Davey and wrap his arm around him. He rested his head on the taller boy’s shoulder but was already starting to feel antsy as moonrise approached. Nowhere near as bad as his first month though.

Spot put his arm around Race and glowered at Jack before focusing back on Davey. “What I don’t get is, if you care about us normal people, why don’t you just bite us all? Immortality for everyone sounds like a pretty sweet deal.”

Jack paused. That was actually a question he hadn’t thought of. He took his head off Davey’s shoulder so he could look at him.

Davey frowned. “We can’t. It’s been tried.”

“What happened?” Jack asked.

“If the percentage of shifters in a population gets too high, it starts to… fail.”

“Fail?” Spot asked.

“Shifting becomes harder, controlling it becomes harder. Our children start being born human and the bitten… look, it’s bad.”

“How bad?” Spot didn’t look like he was willing to let this go.

“Some go crazy and attack anyone, everyone nearby. Others die screaming when they first change.”

“You ever seen that?” Jack asked.

“No. No one has tried it for centuries. Not since the war with the nagual. Both sides tried it then.” Davey swallowed. “I’ve heard accounts from the people who were there, and there are some very… evocative wood carvings.”

“I can’t help but notice you didn’t mention that possibility before you bit me,” Jack said.

Davey’s eyes widened. “No, Jack. There was no risk, there’s nowhere near enough of us here. There’d have to be more than two hundred of us in the city before there'd even be a risk, and I would’ve known the first day in the dorms if there was any danger.”

Jack pulled him closer, “I trust you Davey, but we still need to work on your communication skills.”

Davey nodded. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Jack kissed the side of his cheek, ignoring the gagging sounds both Race and Spot were making from across the room. He held his wrist up and tapped on it, where a watch would be if he had one, and Davey caught his meaning.

“Right. Time for you two to strip and get ready.”

“Do I have to? I just got this idiot to kiss me and now I have to spend the night as a dog?”

“Oh, let me just prevent moonrise for you then, or maybe you want me to move the moon so it’s not full tonight?” Davey rolled his eyes.

“I’m just sayin’.” Race stood up and pulled off his shirt.

“Woah, wait a minute, go get naked in your own room,” Spot said.

Race flung his t-shirt in Spot’s face and stomped off towards his room. Jack followed, leaving Davey and a sputtering Spot in their room.

“Imagine, finds out he’s living with werewolves, and he doesn’t even want to watch them change.” Jack shook his head and started taking his clothes off.

“I know, right? You’d think he’d want an invitation to this show anyway.” Race gestured down to his body. “I did not spend all those years taking dance classes for nothing.”

“And yet you’re majoring in biology.”

“Shut up, I was going to try to find a cure for myself.” Race sat down on the floor with his legs crossed. “Still might if this yoga shit doesn’t pay off soon.”

Jack sighed as he sat down across from him. “I still don’t understand why you fight it so hard. What are you afraid of? You’ve never hurt anyone. Spot found out and didn’t run screaming for the hills. What is it?”

“You think I don’t know all of that?” Race was glaring at him. “I do. I know it, but that doesn’t mean I believe it. I can’t just make myself feel different. I’ve been running from this for so long, Jack.”

“I know. But you don’t need to run anymore, Racetrack.”

Race choked back a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob. “But then I’d have to change my name.”

Jack shook his head. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.” He closed his eyes and started the breathing exercises.

Race didn’t even last half an hour. Jack relaxed into the change the instant he could tell Race had lost his fight, he really didn’t want to know what would happen if he outlasted the other boy. His change was still smoother and faster than Race’s, he hoped Race didn’t notice.

The door to their bedroom opened after they’d finished.

“Holy shit,” Spot said from the doorway, Davey standing behind him. He stepped in and looked between Jack and Race.

“Is that really you, Race?”

Race turned around and farted at Spot.

“Yup, that’s him.”

Jack’s tongue lolled out of his mouth and he made the panting sound that passed for canine laughter.

“Is he laughing at me?” Spot was pointing at him with his cast.

“I think you know the answer to that,” Davey said.

“So why didn’t you change with them?”

“And trust you to be the only one with thumbs?” Davey looked at Spot’s cast. “Or should I say thumb?”

“Fuck you, Jacobs.”

“Sorry, I’m spoken for.”

Jack let out a small bark and maneuvered his body between Davey and his brother.

“Don’t make me get the broom, Jack,” Spot said before looking back at Davey. “So now that you know where Racer’s parents were, what good does that do you?”

“Well, if we can find a place, Race found a spell that will let us make a sort of window we can view the past through.”

“Wait, what?”

“It enchants a mirror to watch a specific time and place.”

“So why didn’t you make one a these things to find the place instead of letting Racer go haring off across Brooklyn?”

“First, because the temporal displacement is fixed.”

“What?”

“If we make a mirror that looks back twenty years, it will always look back exactly twenty years. So if I look at it tomorrow, I’d see what happened 20 years ago tomorrow. If I looked at it in a week.”

“You’d see what happened a week later. I get it. So why don’t you just make a bunch of them?”

Jack used his body to push Davey back towards his bed and forced him to sit down. Spot moved and sat down on Race’s bed. Race jumped up on the bed and forced his head under Spot’s hand. Spot wasn’t paying attention and started stroking his hand through Race’s fur.

“It’s not that simple. Spells aren’t easy. This one especially.”

“How hard can it be?” Spot asked, his hand still carding through Race’s fur.

Jack jumped on his bed and shoved his head under Davey’s hand. Davey obliged him and started scratching behind his ears. It was probably something the real werewolves would consider humiliating, but it felt amazing, and Jack vowed to never let a dog go unpetted again.

“You happen to have a garage-sized space, two-car, where we won’t be disturbed for a few weeks, oh, and a goat.”

Jack’s ears perked up. No one had mentioned anything about a goat.

“A goat?”

“Small cow? Large ram? Preferably a Sagitatrius?”

“You three idiots are going to sacrifice a goat? Like… to the devil?”

“Not to the devil, maybe not to anything, but magic always has a cost.”

“Well, I don’t have any farm animals, but I might know a place.”

The three of them followed Spot to Brooklyn the next afternoon. They stopped outside a nice apartment building on the way, Spot went in alone.

“What are we doing here?” Race asked.

“What makes you think Spot told me?” Jack asked.

“I think that’s my chemistry professor.” Davey waved at a thirty-something black man wearing a sweater and a bow tie. The man looked confused for a moment but waved back before heading into the building. “Who now thinks I’m crazy.”

“It’s not that bad, they can’t mark you down for it. All my teachers think I’m crazy,” Race said.

Jack and Davey both turned to look at him.

“What? I have something in my teeth?” Race scrubbed at his teeth with his finger then smiled at them. “Did I get it?”

Jack and Davey looked at each other and shook their heads.

Spot came back out, bouncing a key ring in his hand.

“Isn’t this Hotshot’s building?” Jack asked.

Spot nodded, pocketed the keys, and motioned for them to follow him.

“Hotshot?” Davey asked.

“The lawyer Dad and Medda let know about the Refuge,” Race said.

Davey nodded and took Jack’s hand, twining their fingers together while they followed Spot deeper into Brooklyn to who-knows-where. They eventually stopped in front of a 4 story building with a large garage beside it, both covered in graffiti.

Jack let out a low whistle. “Hotshot owns this?”

Spot took the keys out of his pocket and walked toward the roll shutter covering the front door. “Not as such.” He fumbled with the keys a bit, his cast giving him trouble, but eventually got one into the lock and turned it.

“Then why does he have the keys to it?” Jack asked.

“Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies.” Spot rolled the shutter up, unlocked the door, and ushered them inside. Concrete and exposed I-beams greeted them, lit only by the light coming in the windows. “Four stories, plus a basement, and a loading dock. Power isn’t on, so the elevator isn’t going anywhere, but this enough space for your virgin sacrifice?”

Davey looked around the space, nodding his head. “It’s big enough. This floor is a bit too exposed though. Let’s check out the basement.” Davey looked around at the doors on the walls. “Oh, and the goat’s sexual proclivities don’t matter.”

Spot chuckled and pointed towards a door in the back of the building. “Basement is that way.”

“You know a lot about this building,” Jack said.

Spot hummed and followed Davey towards the door to the stairway.

“You’re really not going to tell me anything? Your own brother?”

“Especially my own brother.”

Davey tried to turn the knob, but it was locked, so he had to wait while Spot fumbled with the keys some more and unlocked it for him. They tramped down the stairs as a group and into the pitch-black basement. From what the light of their phones showed them, it was laid out more or less the same as the floor above. Davey paced around the area, surveying it, and paying special attention to the locations of the I-beams interrupting the space.

“It’ll do,” Davey said.

“I’m glad it lives up to the requirements of your little furry club.”

Jack chuckled.

Race frowned.

Davey ignored him and looked like he was taking measurements in his head.

“Now how are you idiots going to get a goat?” Spot asked.

Race blew a raspberry at him. “It’s called the internet, Spotty.”

“Ten bucks says Race falls in love with it and won’t let you sacrifice it,” Spot called to Davey.

“He’s the one sacrificing it.”

Spot’s eyes widened and he turned to look at Race. “Yeah, that’s never going to happen.”

Race made a sputtering noise. “It’s a goat, I’m not going to fall in love with a goat.”

“How about I get the goat, and we don’t let Race see it before he has to do the deed?” Jack asked.

“Good call,” Spot and Davey said at the same time.

“Hey! I’se right here!”


	22. Rings

Louis was sitting across the lunch table from David on Thursday. Jack was sitting to David’s left and Mush hadn’t shown up yet. Louis’s foot was tapping against the table’s leg, shaking it. There hadn’t been any convenient way for Jack to get out of his lunches with Louis and Mush, and David wasn’t going to let him be alone with a nagual with unknown motives and goals, even if he was just another college student. Louis spun around in his seat to face the doors, but Mush was nowhere in sight. He pulled out his phone and checked it again.

“You doing okay, Blink? You haven’t touched your…” Jack leaned down and sniffed at the contents of Blink’s plate. “Lasagna?”

Louis looked away from the door and down at his plate. “Maybe?” He looked back toward the door. “Just wondering where Mush is. He’s usually here early.”

“Probably just talking to his professor,” David said.

“About what? He has Spanish before this, which I still say is cheating the language requirement.”

“He’s bilingual?” David asked.

“Tri. English, Spanish, and Nahuatl.”

David did his best to fake surprise. “That’s impressive, there aren’t a lot of Nahuatl speakers, are there?”

Louis shrugged and tried a bite of the mass on his plate.

“Wow, you really upgraded with him. Much smarter than me,” Jack said.

“Yeah, took me seconds to find him.”

Jack snorted.

David nudged Jack’s foot with his own and smiled at him.

“You two are sickening.”

“And you and Mush aren’t? I’ve been watching it for weeks, you can handle me and Davey for a lil’ bit.”

Louis checked his phone again and then took another bite. David noticed a glint of silver on his thumb.

“New ring?” David asked.

Louis paused and looked at this thumb. “Yeah, Mush gave it to me. Dug out a whole bunch earlier this week. You should see him, looks like a jewelry store.”

Jack’s face had paled when David pointed out the ring, and David kicked him under the table. Jack turned his attention back to the formless mass on his plate. David found himself contemplating the purchase of some gold rings, or gold-plated given the budgetary constraints of a college student. Not that he could really afford those either, but if Mush was going to start wearing weapons around as some sort of power play, he wouldn’t be outplayed.

A fourth tray was set down on the table, and all three of them jumped.

David turned, expecting to see Mush, but seeing instead someone he didn’t know. Tall, well built, with brown hair and eyes, expensive clothes, and a mean look on his face. David looked at Jack and Louis, and it was clear they did know their visitor and didn’t like him.

“Morris, to what do we owe the displeasure?” Jack asked.

Morris sat down and looked around the table at each of them, eyes lingering on David, before turning back to Jack. “Who’s your new twink?”

David started to answer but Jack kicked him under the table and he closed his mouth.

“None of your business, that’s who. What do you want?”

Louis's foot had stopped tapping the table, and David noticed that he seemed to be frozen and on the verge of fleeing. The air around the table was filled with the scent of fear, Axe body spray, and seafood. The last one left David confused, there didn’t appear to be anything ocean related on any of their four plates.

“Temper, temper, Kelly. I need another favor.”

“What is it this time?” Jack asked.

“I’m going to need a copy of your algebra notes again. Got another family emergency to deal with.”

“A second one? You sure you wouldn’t rather just withdraw and take another gap year?”

Morris chuckled. “Why don’t you just copy your notes for me, Jackie-boy, and let me worry about that?”

“You couldn’t find anyone else in that class to steal notes from?”

Morris gestured at Louis, who still looked like he'd rather be anywhere else, with his fork before taking another bite. “Do I look like someone who makes friends that easy? You going to do this for me, or do I need to threaten you again?” He curled the knuckles on his other hand.

David sized Morris up and looked around the room. He didn’t think he’d have any trouble taking him, particularly when the moon would still be full that night, but the room was far too crowded. David stopped. Where had that thought even come from? His parents had made sure he knew how to fight, but this was a school bully in the cafeteria. It didn’t merit violence. Something about Louis’s fear and Jack’s resigned acceptance of the situation just made him angry though. He found himself glaring at Morris.

Morris looked back at him and met his eyes. He smirked and turned back to Jack. “Looks like your new boy toy has some fight in him. You best explain his mistake to him. See you next week.” He stood up and took his lunch away to another table on the far side of the dining hall where he met another boy who was clearly related to him.

Louis took what David worried might have been his first breath since Morris sat down.

David looked at Louis and then at Jack. “Friend of yours?”

“Our favorite school bully growing up, followed by his little brother over there.” Jack nodded in the direction of Morris and his apparent brother.

“Their favorite game is gay-bashing,” Louis said.

David looked at their table and narrowed his eyes, meeting Morris’s for a moment before looking back at Louis. “And they didn’t get expelled for it?”

“Rich family. Their uncle was also the principal,” Jack said. “I stood up for the other kids as much as I could, but I was always the one who got suspended for it.”

David glared at their table again. “So that’s the Oscar that Sean is always complaining about?” David asked.

Jack nodded and looked back at his food.

“And you’re just going to let Morris copy your notes?”

“It’s easier than fighting him, they’se just notes.”

“You ain’t going to be able to take them, Dave. They always fight together,” Louis said.

David glanced back over at their table. He was pretty sure he could take them, and the look in Jack’s eye said he knew David could, but explaining that to Louis would be dangerous ground. He glanced down at the silver thumb ring. Not that he’d be able to keep it from Louis for long with the way his luck seemed to go.

“Either you beat them up, and they get you expelled, or they beat you up, and they maybe still get you expelled for starting it,” Jack said.

Another tray was set down at their table, startling all of them again. If it was Morris again he thought he might just go ahead and deck him. David sighed in relief when he realized it was only Mush, although the array of silver rings on his fingers made that relief short-lived.

“Who was that?” Mush asked, indicating the Delanceys’ table with his thumb.

“Their high school bully.”

“The one that used to beat you up?” Mush asked Louis.

Louis nodded.

Mush narrowed his eyes and turned to glare at the table. Morris met his gaze with a smirk.

“Please don’t antagonize them,” Louis said, reaching out and taking Mush’s hand.

Mush turned back, lacing his fingers with Louis’s, and nodded.

David couldn’t even imagine how seeing Louis looking so broken would be affecting the nagual. David was feeling enraged, and he wasn’t even sure he liked Louis.

“Any luck finding a goat?” David asked when they were back in the dorm and sitting on Jack's bed.

“Sorta. I mean I found a place to buy one, and they even give birth dates, so I can get you your precious Aries.”

“Sagittarius.”

Jack smirked. “I know, just fuckin’ with ya. Problem is we’re going to have to pick it up in person.”

David blinked. “Huh. I hadn’t thought of that.”

“You expected them to... what, FedEx it?”

“I didn’t think about it at all.”

“Ain’t you from Phoenix? Shouldn’t a westerner like you know more about ranch animals?”

David gave him a flat stare. “Sorry, I spent all my time learning how to duel in the street at high noon.”

Jack leaned in and pressed a quick kiss against his lips. “I knew I loved you for a reason.”

David froze. Jack didn’t seem to notice as he was searching for something on his phone. Did Jack know what he’d just said? It was too early for that word. Way too early for that word. It was probably just a turn of phrase. There was no way Jack actually meant that he loved David. He wasn’t acting like he’d said anything significant, so David tried to act normal and ignore his thoughts when Jack thrust the phone in his face.

“See, here’s our three options. Buttercup, Billy, and Pan,” Jack said. “Buttercup is the prettiest, but she’s also the most expensive.”

“Well we’re definitely not getting Buttercup. The point of you finding the goat was to keep anyone from getting attached to it.”

“I know, but look at her tail!” Jack scrolled to another picture of Buttercup.

“You do know that cowboys herded cattle to be butchered, right?”

“I know. I never said I would’ve been a good cowboy. I think of myself as more of a cowboy poet. A renaissance cowboy.” Jack attempted to strike a dramatic pose.

David attempted not to laugh.

They both failed.

The front door to the dorm opened. David could tell it was both Race and Sean by their footsteps.

“Hide Buttercup, we don’t need Race seeing her and falling in love.”

“Yeah, we’se definitely not coded to have a pet goat in here.” Jack pocketed the phone.

Neither of them came into the room though. David heard the door to his room open and both of them went inside, followed by some distinctive wet sounds.

“Wait, is they…?”

David glanced at Jack and noticed one of his ears was elongated and had a bit of a point. It was an impressive demonstration of control for how long he’d been an oboroten. He stood up, crossed the room, and locked the door. He turned around and raised an eyebrow at Jack. After all, if he didn’t want to listen to the sound of his roommates finally having sex, it would be easiest to drown them out.

Sean finally agreed to watch Jack and Race change that night. Both he and Race seemed a lot more at ease now. It was almost an hour before Race lost control and changed that night. It was the best he’d managed. David pretended he didn’t see Jack sigh and roll his eyes before changing.

Sean’s expression was horrified as he watched Race’s bones break and his flesh twist, but he didn’t look away even once. It was probably a good sign if he wanted to be a doctor.

“So how long before he doesn’t change anymore?” Sean asked.

“That’s up to him. He’s still fighting himself too much, tonight was better though.” David shot what he hoped was a meaningful look at Sean. “Even then, I’d still rather be changing. It’s like an itch in the back of my mind that I can’t quite scratch.”

“How does that not hurt?”

“I’m pretty sure it turns your pain receptors off. Nothing else though, you can feel everything moving.”

“What’s that like?”

“You get used to it.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s not really something I can describe.”

“What causes it? A disease?” Sean asked.

“No one’s ever identified a bacterium or virus for it. I’m sure Race would be happy to spit on a slide for you if you want to take a try.”

Race nodded and then thrust his head under Sean’s hand.

Sean scratched between Race’s ears but shook his head. “Cause I keep spare microscope slides on me, and I’m sure my Bio 101 course prepared me for that.”

“Well, not like his spit is going anywhere.”

Sean looked down and noticed what his hand was doing. He snatched it back. “Sorry, didn’t mean to treat you like a dog.”

Race whined and tried to shove his head back under Sean’s hand.

Sean held both hands above his head. “What the fuck, Racer? You’re not a dog.”

“You wouldn’t like it if he ran his fingers through your hair?” David asked.

Jack nuzzled his head under David’s hand, and David scratched him behind the ear.

Sean looked at them and then down at Race. In the end, he sighed and dropped his hand back down onto Race’s head. “What even is my life?”

The three oborotni all shrugged.


	23. No Sleeves

“Say that again?” Jack asked.

“It has to be a square, but the corners all have to be 99.3 degrees,” Davey said.

“Okay, I didn’t get the best grade in geometry, but I’m pretty sure that’s impossible.”

“Well, the sides have to curve a little so that it fits together.”

“I don’t think that’s a square.”

“Well, here,” Davey walked over to the circle of taped down papers, picked up one of them, and thrust one toward Jack followed by a protractor. He held a flashlight up for him to see the drawing.

Jack took the paper and looked at the drawing. It was hard for his eyes to follow. It did look like a square. He fumbled with the protractor, focusing on just one corner. It was around 100 degrees, but he had no idea how Davey expected him to paint this on the basement floor. He handed the page back to Davey and looked around the basement they were in.

Race and Spot were somewhere upstairs. They’d tried telling Spot he didn’t need to come, but he was equal parts unwilling to part with Hotshot’s keys and unwilling to trust the three of them outside of his line of sight. Jack couldn’t bring himself to fault him for either.

Davey had printed a diagram of all the sigils the ritual was going to need and was laying it out on the floor while consulting both a compass and a compass app on his phone, while double-checking some math Race had done to calculate the exact angle. It was Saturday morning, and they had exactly two weeks to have the diagram ready, or else they’d have to wait at least another month, and apparently there wouldn’t be another weekend opportunity until sometime next year.

“We still need to figure out how we’re going to get a goat from the farm to here.”

David hummed and laid down another paper. “Well, we need a truck, or at least a car.”

“You have one? I don’t. Spot don’t. Race sure as fuck don’t.”

“Can we rent one?”

“They don’t rent to people under twenty-one, and given what we plan to do with it, I can’t say I blame them.”

“Does your mom or Race’s dad have one we can borrow?”

“Ma has a van, but she’d have questions. Denton’s on a quest to save the environment and only has a bike.”

“I suppose asking Sean to steal one is a bad idea?” Davey asked.

“He’s almost nineteen, Ma would be real unhappy if you got him put in jail.”

“Like I’d get caught,” Spot said.

He and Davey looked toward the base of the stairs to see Race and Spot stepping in.

“Either way, I’m not letting you risk it,” Jack said.

“None of you know anyone with a car?” Davey asked.

“Blink still have that old truck?” Spot asked.

“Not sure,” Jack said. He was sure. Blink loved that truck and would probably be buried in it. Jack had some bittersweet memories of the truck himself. Memories of time spent with Blink when things had been new between them and still working, before they started butting heads on every damn thing. He looked at Davey, was this the same?

“Earth to idiot,” Spot said, waving a hand in front of his face.

Jack blinked and focused on his brother. “Sorry, zoned out for a second.”

“No shit. Why don’t you call Blink and ask?”

“Yeah cause, if he does, he’s really going to want to do a favor for me.”

Spot frowned but nodded. “Race, you call him.”

Race pulled out his phone and headed back up the stairs to get signal.

Jack looked over Spot’s head to see Davey shaking his head. Jack didn’t know all the politics and bad history involved, but he had to agree that involving a werejaguar’s boyfriend was a bad idea. “He’s not going to just loan it to us, and don’t you think he’s going to have questions about the goat?”

“Come up with a lie. You kept me in the dark long enough,” Spot said.

“And what about when we bring the goat here. You want Blink knowing about this place?” Jack tried again.

“It’s not ideal, but he’s trustworthy enough.” Spot narrowed his eyes at Jack and glanced over his shoulder in time to catch Davey shaking his head and making ‘no’ motions with his arms. “What’s this really about? You and Blink didn’t end things this badly.”

Davey buried his face in his palm.

Jack made sure Race was out of earshot before leaning in and whispering to his brother. “Look, the issue isn’t Blink. His new boyfriend, though. He isn’t exactly human, but he ain’t one of us neither. Race went through a while there where he was convinced they’se who killed his parents, and Davey and I are worried that he’ll do something stupid if he finds out.”

Spot rolled his eyes. “Seriously?  _ If  _ he finds out? You people are the absolute worst at keeping secrets. He’s going to find out, and what do you think he’s going to do when he finds out you two were keeping secrets from him?”

Jack looked up and met Davey’s eyes again. Davey sighed but nodded. Spot was right, trying to keep it secret wouldn’t do any good in the long run, and he hadn’t considered how Race would feel when he found out they’d been keeping things from him. At this point, it had only been a few days, but the longer it went on, the worse it would be. They had to tell him.

“He’s been gone a while,” Davey said, glancing toward the stairs.

“You’ve never seen Blink and him together, it could be a while. We’ll let him know when he gets back. Now let’s get back to getting this spell laid out.”

Davey went back to laying the pages he’d printed out into a complete diagram. It was a lot of paper and was still only a fraction of the size the final product would have to be. Jack spent the time sweeping the floor in the area clean. They were going to need to mop too. According to Davey, anything that interrupted the sigils could cause it to fail. Jack was pretty sure that he was underselling it but didn’t really want to know what could have inspired the haunted look in Davey’s eyes, so he hadn’t pressed the issue.

Race came back down. “He agreed. I even managed to convince him to let Jack ride in the bed of the truck.”

“You convinced him to let me ride in the bed?” Jack asked.

“Hey, to begin with, he didn’t want you within twenty feet of it, but I pointed out that there’s no seatbelts in the back, so he could always try to off you, and he changed his mind. So we’ll be able to get the goat on the tenth.”

“You sure we should be putting it off until the day of the spell?” Jack asked.

“You want to look after a goat for more than a few hours? Besides, I thought you didn’t want me falling in love with it.”

“He’s right, but you and Sean will need to go. I’ll need him here preparing.”

“Probably for the best,” Spot said. He looked at Jack from behind Race and motioned for him to get on with it.

“Yeah, so speaking of Blink. His new boyfriend is a werejaguar.” Jack decided just ripping the band-aid off was the best course at this point.

“What?” Race turned and looked at Davey. “I thought you said they all lived in South America?”

“I said south of the United States, and he’s from San Diego, at least that’s what he claims,” Davey said.

“Which, last I checked, is still in the United States,” Race said.

Davey shrugged.

“How long have you two known?” Race looked between Jack and Davey with a frown.

Jack held up his hands. “Just since Tuesday. He knows about the two of us too, but not you.”

Race deflated a little. “Does Blink know?”

Jack looked at Davey then back to Race. “I’m not sure.”

“He doesn’t act like he does,” Davey said. “I don’t think he knows about us or Mush.”

“The nagual’s name is Mush?” Race asked, then snorted.

“Apparently he’s a romantic,” Jack said.

“So what’s he doing here?”

“We haven’t exactly had a conversation. I recognized his smell, and he realized what we were when he found out I’m  _ allergic  _ to silver nitrate because Louis was talking too much.”

“Louis?”

“Blink,” Jack answered for Davey.

“Wait, Blink’s real name is Louis?” Race was on the verge of laughter again.

“So Blink’s real name is funny, but Mush’s nickname is also funny?” Davey asked.

Race nodded and gave in to his laughter.

Davey shook his head and went back to laying out the papers.

Jack, Davey, and Race spent most of the day sketching the diagram out on the basement in chalk while Spot supervised. Which meant Spot sat on the stairs and gave commentary, mostly about Race’s butt.

It took Jack twelve tries to get the not-a-square that was the heart of the whole diagram right. Right according to Davey and Race at least. In the end he had to focus on just drawing each line and not focusing on what he was drawing. It still made his eyes swim when he tried to look at the whole thing at once. He felt uneasy looking at it for too long and focused on the other parts.

“So what now, you paint over it with Racer’s blood?” Spot asked.

Race’s eyes widened and he looked from Spot to Davey. “Okay, I definitely didn’t see that in the book.”

“No. For this regular paint will do, as long as it doesn’t contain any iron. The mirror can’t contain any iron either.” Davey flipped through his now ever-present notebook. “Actually, it’d be best if the paint is made from the same metal as the mirror backing, so aluminum or silver.” He looked up at Jack.

“Aluminum paint I can get. Silver… if I could even find something, wouldn’t that be a real bad idea for us?” Jack gestured at Davey, himself, and then Race.

“Right, we need to go find a mirror, Spotty,” Race said.

“Why do I have to go?”

“Because you’ll get to see two of me this way. It’ll be the sexiest sandwich you’ll ever see.”

Spot rolled his eyes but smiled. “Fine. Might as well go do that now. You two ready to leave?”

Davey looked over the diagram and nodded. “Yeah, nothing else to do tonight.”

“Dinner?” Jack asked.

“Yeah, we missed lunch and I’m starving.”

“Hey, I’m hungry too,” Race said.

“Mirror first. We’ll stop at Jacobi’s on the way back to the dorm,” Spot said.

“But that’ll take so long.”

“You’ll live.” Spot turned back to Jack and Davey. “Come on, I need to lock up.”

“You still don’t trust us in your secret lair? I’m crushed.” Jack clutched his chest.

“I don’t even trust you when I can see you. Get out.”

Jack waited for Davey to put away his things in the backpack he’d brought, and then went upstairs with him. They left while Spot dragged Race out.

“So what do you want to eat?” Davey asked.

“I think I’m over pizza for the time being.”

Davey scoffed. “I’ll believe that if you can go a week without.”

“I blame you for that. I didn’t eat nearly so much before you got all bitey with me.”

“You can get large quantities delivered to the dorm for not too much money. It’s pretty much my family's go-to whenever Mom doesn’t have time to cook. I’d compliment her homemade pizza, but I’m afraid some New Yorkers would kill me for sacrilege.”

“Thai?”

“Never had it.”

“Really? How are you with spicy food?”

“I grew up in the Southwest.”

“Not what I asked, but we’re getting pad thai.” Jack pulled out his phone and looked for the nearest place, but then thought better of it and put it away. “It’s a little far, but there’s a great place near home.”

Davey rolled his eyes but nodded. “Fine, but this food had better be worth it.”

Jack kissed him on the cheek. “It will be, I promise. Come on.” He grabbed Davey’s hand and pulled him down the street.

Forty-five minutes and two busses later they were sitting at a table in the tiny restaurant. Davey was sitting across a small table from him, staring at the bright orange drink in front of him.

“It’s orange.”

Jack took a sip of his own before answering. “It’s Thai iced tea.”

“Iced tea isn’t orange.” Davey picked up the glass and sniffed it. “Why is it milky?”

“Because they put milk in it.”

Davey took a sip and swished it around in his mouth before swallowing.

“Well?”

“It’s sweet. I don’t usually like sweet tea.”

“But?”

“It’s not bad, not sure I’d go out of my way to get it though.”

“Just wait until we get our food, it really helps with the burn.” Jack looked around the tables nearby, it was crowded but loud enough that he didn’t think they’d be overheard. He leaned forward. “So you think this thing is really going to work?”

Davey glanced around at the tables before also leaning in. “The book he found is real, and dangerous. But a lot of books like this have transcription errors that can render spells useless or even dangerous. I looked it over, and it shouldn’t be dangerous, but I have no idea if it will work.”

“But we’re trying it anyway?”

Davey looked him in the eye. “If we didn’t, do you think for one second that Race wouldn’t go and do it without us?”

Jack had to concede the point and nodded.

“And he didn’t even understand that it was going to need a sacrifice. If he’d tried it without the goat, it might very well have killed him instead.”

Jack felt the blood drain from his face. “Shit.”

Davey nodded and leaned back when the waiter showed up with their food. Jack had ordered medium chicken pad thai for both of them. Davey had wanted to jump right to Thai hot, insisting that his Phoenix born taste buds could take it, but Jack had his doubts. After his first bite, Davey’s face went red and he reached for his iced tea.

“Bit hotter than Taco Bell?”

Davey swallowed a gulp before answering. “Fuck you. This is the medium?”

Jack laughed and nodded before taking a bite of his own, it was as delicious as he remembered.

They ate in silence for a while, Davey was sweating when he paused again. “So, you bring all your boyfriends here?”

“And girlfriends, well, girlfriend”

“You’ve only had one girlfriend?”

“Yeah, Katherine. We dated our junior year, until her parents split up. Her mother got full custody and they moved to Phoenix. Don’t suppose you ever met her?”

“Jack, we moved to Buffalo when I was fifteen. Not to mention that Phoenix has a population of like four million.”

“How’s that compare to New York?”

“I dunno, like half or a third?”

“So it’s a small town.” Jack stuck his tongue out.

“Why am I dating you?”

“No idea. I just assumed some mix of you getting dropped on your head as a baby and me being incredibly lucky.”

Davey’s eyes drifted over Jack’s shoulder and then back to his food. He made a show of taking a bite and chewing it before answering. Jack wondered how he could make eating pad thai look sensual, but somehow Davey was pulling it off. “I don’t think it’s brain damage.”

“Oh, so you’re a masochist then.”

Davey smiled, it was breathtaking, even in the low-grade industrial lighting. “That must be it.” He glanced over Jack’s shoulder again. “Your brother is here.”

He started to turn around to take a look, but Davey stopped him. “Why don’t you want me saying hi to Spot?”

“It’s not Spot.”

“Crutchie’s here?” Jack started to turn around again but Davey tugged his arm. Jack gave up and faced him

“I think he’s on a date. He hasn’t seen us.”

Jack choked on his drink. “Crutchie’s on a date?” He forced himself to focus on Davey. “With who?” Davey gave him a look that let him know that was a stupid question. “What’s she look like?”

Davey looked over his shoulder again, for longer. “Well. They’re at the booth behind you, and playing an intense game of footsie. Pale, red hair. About Race’s height. Nice arms. No sleeves.”

Jack was out of his chair and halfway across the room before he knew what had happened. He assumed he was getting strange looks from the other customers as he walked the rest of the way towards the table his brother and his date were sitting at, but he didn’t care. “Albert DaSilva, just what are your intentions toward my brother?”

The redhead went even paler.

Crutchie glared at him, then at the table he’d just come from, and then back at him. “Hi Jack. Nice to see you,” he said, voice flat.

Jack held up a finger in front of him. “I’ll get to you.” He turned his full attention to Albert.

Albert straightened and tried to meet his eyes. “Hi Jack. How’s Race?”

“That’s not what I asked you.” Jack noticed the looks he was attracting, so shoved Crutchie down the booth seat and took a seat next to him.

Before Albert could answer, Jack’s plate and iced tea were set down on the table in front of him. He looked up to see Davey have a conversation with the waiter before walking back to their table and grabbing his own plate to bring over. Alber scooted down on his side and cleared a place for Davey to sit.

“David,” Crutchie said.

“Charles,” Davey said while looking like he was trying to contain a laugh.

Jack decided to ignore whatever that was about and focused back on Albert. “I’m waiting.”

“Jack, what are you doing here?” Crutchie asked.

“I was having a date with my beautiful boyfriend, before you and this gigolo ruined it.”

“Hey!” Albert said.

“And you. Do you have any idea how long Race pined for you? But we all thought you was straight. Now here you are, with my brother?”

“Okay. First, we all know Race is gone for Spot. Second, so what if I didn’t figure out my sexuality as fast as you?”

“What’s to figure out, don’t you just— ouch, Crutch!” Jack rubbed his leg, Crutchie had kicked him under the table.

“What?”

“You kicked me.”

“No I didn’t.”

Jack turned and glared at Albert.

Albert held his arms up. “It wasn’t me.”

Jack looked at Davey.

Davey shrugged. “Everyone deserves the time to figure themselves out, Jackie.”

Jack gave Davey the best hurt expression he could muster, but Davey just ate his pad thai. The waiter came by with Albert and Crutchie’s food, and they all ate in silence.


	24. Wasting Charcoal

David hoped that hadn’t been Charlie and Albert’s first date, but he felt he’d deserved some revenge on Jack’s brother for the grilling he’d gotten when they first met. He’d managed to pry Jack away from the unfortunate pair after they’d finished their meal, and paid for the whole table as a gesture of apology.

“I did not see Albert, of all our friends, being into guys,” Jack said.

“Wouldn’t know. Never met him before, and he was holding hands with Charlie the first time I saw him.”

Jack blinked and laughed to himself. “Right, you know, I almost forgot that you didn’t go to high school with us. Already feels like I known you for years.” He squeezed David’s hand as they approached the bus stop.

“Considering Race, I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

Jack laughed again. “Fair. But I wish I’d met you sooner. Might have saved me from that nightmare Blink and I called a relationship.”

“Was it that bad?”

“Look, he’s a good enough friend, but we were too much alike. I want attention all the time, he wants attention all the time…”

David laughed and threw an arm around Jack’s shoulders as they sat down at the bus stop.

David had been surprised about the fact that Louis had not only agreed to help them transport the goat but that he hadn’t asked any questions about it in class. Mush was still an enigma, though. David was certain Louis would have mentioned it to him, and also certain that Mush would be suspicious of why they needed a goat. They were planning to avoid any questions by not having lunch with Mush and Louis until after the ritual.

Preparing for the ritual wasn’t doing anything good for their grades, as they spent the next few nights in Brooklyn preparing. David was planning to spend every night working on it, but on Wednesday afternoon he couldn’t find Sean, who still wouldn’t trust any of them with the keys, and Jack snatched his phone when he was about to text him.

David looked up and saw Jack was wearing a button-down shirt with suspenders and his gray cap. “Jack, I need to call Sean.”

“He’s on a date with Race.”

“We need to go work on the ritual.”

“Come on, Davey. It’s Halloween. We already bought our costumes and everything.”

“Jack, we have to make sure the ritual site is ready.”

“We have all next week, and you’ve already checked over that thing three times.”

“We can’t afford for anything to go wrong.”

“Yeah? Well, you’ll think better if you take a day off.”

“I don’t think that’s actually true.”

“Come on. We have matching costumes.”

“You said that already.”

“No, I said we had costumes the first time, the second time I pointed out that they’se matching costumes. Do you not want everyone to know we’re dating.” Jack batted his eyes at him, it was ridiculous. David didn’t stand a chance.

“Fine.”

Jack let out a whoop of triumph.

“So what are we doing?”

“I figure first we’ll hit up the dorm party.”

“The dorm party, really?”

“Hey, free food is free food, and that goat isn’t cheap. And then,” Jack pulled out his phone and pulled up a website, “we check out this haunted house. Their website says they’se the scariest in the state.”

“Jack, they all say that, and we’re werewolves.”

“I don’t see what that has to do with anything. I seen Race get scared plenty of times.”

“Fine, but if any of them grab me, I’m not responsible for my actions.”

“It’s kinda hot when you go all alpha like that.”

“Alphas aren’t a real thing, even the scientist who wrote that study later recanted it.”

“It’s kinda hot when you’re all smart too.” Jack leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

David struggled to hold down a blush. “Jack.”

Jack kissed him again. “So go put your costume on, and we can go see a movie first.”

“In costume?”

“In matching hats.” Jack pulled the brown newsboy cap he’d found for David out from behind his back and plopped it on David’s head. “So everyone will know you’re mine.”

David groaned, and held out his hand. “Phone.”

Jack handed his phone back, but David went to his bedroom and did as he’d been told. When he came back out, in an old-timey shirt they’d found at a thrift store and his favorite vest, Jack attacked him with hands covered in greasepaint.

“Jack!”

“We’re supposed to be nineteenth-century ragamuffins, Davey. We need to look dirty.”

Davey relented and let Jack rub the makeup on him. “I’m just impressed you know the word ragamuffin.”

Jack laughed. “Come on, we still have time to see  _ Venom  _ before the party, and then hit a drug store and buy out the candy aisle.”

David couldn’t say he enjoyed the movie, but he couldn’t say it was bad either. He could give Jack a pretty good review, though. They hit a CVS after and grabbed the last bags of decent Halloween candy, the store still had plenty of circus peanuts left, which didn’t surprise either of them. There were also circus peanuts at the dorm party. A lot of them.

“Has anyone ever eaten more than one of these?” David asked.

“Not and lived, I bet,” Jack said. “Maybe on a drunken dare?”

“Maybe, but this is a freshman dorm, there won’t be alcohol.”

“Not officially.”

“True. At least there’s free pizza.”

They got some dirty looks when they each took a whole meat lover’s for themself, but David wasn’t sure what else the party’s planners had expected from a bunch of eighteen-year-olds who’d rather be drinking. David grabbed the last open seat on a couch in the lounge, and Jack sat on the armrest next to him while they dug into the food.

After inhaling his pizza and rubbing the grease off on his jeans, Jack pulled out a charcoal pencil, that he tucked behind his ear, and a sketchbook out of the bag he was carrying copies of the campus newspaper in. He opened the sketchbook, and David leaned over to watch as Jack flipped through it, looking for a blank page.

Jack paused halfway through the book and showed him a picture of a wolf. “Look, it’s you.”

David looked closer, he didn’t see his other form very often, he’d only looked in a mirror once or twice since his first change. He looked leaner than he had as a kid, almost full-grown, but not quite. Most of the detail was focused on the eyes, which were still his. Staring into the sketch’s eyes was like looking into some sort of black and white mirror.

“You’re really good,” David said.

“I have a good muse.” Jack kissed him just behind the ear.

Jack found a blank page and started sketching out some of their fellow students. David watched in awe as Frankenstein, a sexy witch, and a guy in a ‘This is my costume’ t-shirt took shape on the page. He noticed that the haunted house cake the three were gathered around in the sketch looked a lot better than the real one.

When the people sharing the couch with David got up to get some more pizza, Jack took their place, sitting sideways on the couch so that he faced David. He flipped to a new page in his book and resumed drawing.

“Please tell me you aren’t wasting charcoal on me,” David said.

“I’m not wasting charcoal on you, because drawing you is not a waste,” Jack said.

David tried and failed to fight down a blush.

Jack got some glares when the people who’d been sitting there came back but shrugged and kept drawing. David shared some of their candy haul with them as a peace offering, and shared the rest of the candy with Jack, together they scarfed an unhealthy amount of chocolate. David hadn’t eaten so much sugar at once since they’d moved to Buffalo and it had been decided that he and Sarah were too old for trick-or-treating. He wondered if he was still susceptible to sugar rushes.

They left the party a little before nine and headed to Hell’s Kitchen, because of course Jack had picked a haunted house in Hell’s Kitchen. It was in a seven-story building and had a long line.

“I don’t know if we’re going to be able to get in,” David said.

Jack pulled out his phone. “Nah, I bought us VIP tickets. We get to skip all the lines.”

David frowned. “That can’t have been cheap.”

“Well, I had to sell back one of my textbooks, and between these and the goat I’ll be eating ramen for the rest of the year.”

“Jack,” David grabbed his hand, “at least let me help pay for the goat. We should force Race to pay some too.”

“Sure thing, Davey. I’m proud, but I’m not that proud. And I don’t really like ramen.”

David laughed and let Jack pull him toward the front of the line.

The building reeked of sweat and makeup. David guessed the haunted house would be scary enough for most people, but it had nothing on his father’s training program. It got a lot of jumps out of Jack at least, although by the end David suspected he was only still doing it as an excuse to grab his butt. Still, after every jump, Jack would giggle like a schoolchild, something David was all too aware Jack hadn’t had a chance to be, and it wasn’t like he objected to being groped.

Jack went shopping the day after Halloween and didn’t have any trouble finding the aluminum paint, and painted a test strip on Sunday morning. It was shiny and metallic. David thought it would be quite pretty if it didn’t remind him uncomfortably of silver. They hadn’t started painting the diagram yet though, it was still just sketched out in chalk. Race and Spot had gotten a full-length aluminum backed mirror that almost didn’t fit in the diagram, which Davey was double-checking for what he guessed was the seventeenth time. It seemed Race really was as good at math as he’d claimed. He’d calculated the exact location of Epsilon Sagittarii at the time they’d chosen for the ritual, and the precise angle they’d need to align the diagram with the brightest star in Sagittarius, in less than fifteen minutes, in his head, and he’d been right. Even with an astrology app, it took David an hour to do the math.

“We ready for me to start painting it?” Jack asked.

David nodded. “Yeah, looks like it’s all correct.”

“I could have told you that a week ago. In fact, I did,” Race said.

“Some of us believe in double-checking our work,” David said.

“Double-checking I get. How many times did you check it out though?” Sean asked.

David mumbled something.

“Sorry, what was that?” Sean asked.

“Seventeen, okay?” David said.

“That doesn’t seem a little obsessive to you?” Sean asked.

“It took me two years to get a spell right the first time I tried, we can’t all be geniuses,” David gestured at Race.

“And how long to get your second spell right?” Jack asked.

David mumbled something else, but Jack heard him.

“Did you just say five minutes?”

“It was a much simpler spell, it doesn’t count.”

Jack rolled his eyes and headed for the buckets of paint while pulling a brush out of his pocket.

“Okay, so Jack’s ordered the goat. The diagram just needs to be painted. We have a mirror. Anything else we need?”

David looked at Race. “How’s the pronunciation coming?”

Race made a face. “Not great. Why are there so many consonants?”

“The language wasn’t really intended for human mouths, or mammal mouths for that matter.”

Spot blinked. “What?”

“The language used in magic predates humanity. There’s some argument about exactly how old it is, and some books claim it’s less a language than a fundamental law of the universe.”

“How can there be languages older than humanity?” Spot asked.

Jack stopped dipping his brush in the paint and looked over at them.

“Oh, uh… right. I forget not everyone gets those children’s stories.”

Race sat down looking at his phone, David hoped it was the phonetic pronunciation guide he’d sent him. “Don’t worry about me, I got the gist of it from the  _ Revelations _ .”

Sean turned his attention back to Race. “We need to talk about your reading habits.”

Race waved him off.

Jack shrugged, wiped some excess paint off the brush, and, after taking a deep breath, started painting over the chalk lines on the concrete slab.

“Fine, I probably don’t want to know anyhow.” Sean sat down next to Race and looked anywhere but at the other boy’s phone. “So what are you knuckleheads planning to do about your cat problem?”

“Well, we avoided Blink and Mush this week, but that can’t last if we expect Blink to drive us to get the goat,” Jack said.

“You avoided them. I still have chemistry with Louis, and I can’t exactly avoid my lab partner,” David said.

“So you three had better come up with a plan,” Sean said.

“Why don’t you come up with a plan?” Jack asked.

“Because I don’t suffer from dog breath once a month.”

Race leaned over and licked up the side of Sean’s face.

Sean scrambled away from him, rubbing at his face. “What the fuck, Racer?”

“I licked you, now you’re mine, which makes this your problem too.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Sean said.

“Everyone who’s been a werewolf for longer than two months, raise their hand,” Race said and raised his hand.

David raised his hand.

“Right, so Daves, is or is not Mush Spot’s problem now that I licked him?”

David nodded. “He licked you, you’re his now.” David managed to say it with a straight face. “Besides, we can’t ignore it much longer. He was wearing a jewelry store worth of silver rings last time we saw him.”

Sean narrowed his eyes. “He threatened you guys?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so, I think he’s outnumbered and scared and was just looking to defend himself.”

“But…” Sean prompted him.

“But I’m not happy about it, and it’s not like we have the best history with them. My parents would want me to have killed him or called them already.”

“Then why haven’t you?” Sean asked.

“I… I don’t know.”

“Bullshit. You know.”

David took a deep breath and thought about it. Sean was right, he did know. “He’s just a kid. Just like me, like all of us. I don’t even know what he’s doing here. I mean… investigating what happened the same as we are probably, but I don’t know why they’d send him here.”

“So you can’t keep hiding from him then.”

“We ain’t hiding,” Jack said. “We’se just choosing not to be places where he is.”

Sean snorted.

“I know. You’re right,” David said. “I’d like to wait until closer to the full moon though.”

“You sure that’s a good idea?”

“It’d be best if we could defend ourselves.”

“You’re the one who pointed out that he’s scared and outnumbered. Don’t you think it’d go better if he was able to defend himself?”

David stopped. Sean had a point. “After we’re done with this then.”

They managed to avoid lunch with Louis and Mush for the next week too. Louis seemed to accept that they were busy studying, but they wouldn’t be able to put it off much longer. David did order a pair of cheap gold-plated rings online. He didn’t want to look like a threat to Mush, but he’d started it.

“Ain’t you supposed to get down on one knee when you propose?” Jack asked when David handed him the ring.

“It’s a weapon, just in case.”

“It’s a wedding band.”

“First, you wish. Second, it was twenty dollars on Amazon.”

Jack slid it onto his right ring finger. It fit perfectly. “You know my ring size?”

“I took a tape measure to your finger on Monday.”

Jack blinked. “You did?”

“Uh-huh.”

“How did I miss that?”

“I have no idea.”

“Huh.” Jack held his hand up and looked at the ring. “What do I tell anybody who asks about it?”

“Tell them it’s your purity ring.”

Jack barked out a laugh.

“What, don’t think they’ll believe you?” David asked while trying to hold in his own laugh.

Jack didn’t answer, he was too busy giggling.

David waited for his boyfriend to calm down. “But seriously, you might see him tomorrow. Maybe he’ll even be going to the goat farm with you and Sean. Don’t flaunt it, but the new moon was two nights ago, and I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Jack reached out and touched David’s face, stroking his thumb on his cheek. “Don’t worry, Davey. Do you really think he’ll try something around Spot and Blink? Even if he’s told Blink, he’ll still be careful around Spot, right?”

“I hope so.” David leaned against Jack’s hand.


	25. More Rust Than Steel

Jack was pretty sure this was illegal. Not riding in the bed of the truck, he knew that was illegal, which is why he was lying down so no one could see him, but there was no way this truck had passed emissions. It was older than any two of its passengers combined and was made out of more rust than steel at this point. Jack had no idea how Blink kept it running. He was pretty sure Blink’s love alone couldn’t be responsible, but then again they were going to pick up a goat to sacrifice to some god he’d never even heard of, so maybe anything was possible.

Blink, Mush, and Spot were crammed together in the cab. Jack was on his back looking up at the alternating white and blue-black clouds of smoke being belched out of the tailpipe. He didn’t know anything about cars but was pretty sure that was bad. He was just glad it wasn’t anywhere near the full moon, the smoke being blown back over him was bad enough with a human nose. He knew the back window didn’t seal very well. Jack wondered how Mush was dealing with the smell. Maybe jaguars didn’t have as good a sense of smell as wolves? Dogs were supposed to have a great sense of smell, so he figured wolves were probably better than jaguars, but Mush must still have a better sense of smell than an ordinary human, right?

Mush had looked at his new ring that morning and then given Jack a  _ look _ . Jack had looked at the pawnshop worth of silver on Mush’s fingers and then given him the same  _ look  _ right back. Neither of them had said anything.

The truck turned, and the sound of the road under the tires changed from pavement to gravel. Jack had known when they left the city by both the lack of buildings visible from the truck bed and the lack of furious drivers honking from within the smoke cloud they left behind at every traffic light. He considered sitting up to see where they were, but some flying chunks of gravel convinced him it was a bad idea. He stayed flat in the bed until the truck rumbled to a stop and he heard Blink’s door open.

Jack sat up and climbed out of the truck, watching Mush and then Spot slide out the only working door behind Blink. The farm looked nice enough. Not quite the quaint place he always pictured when someone said farm, it was a pretty average looking house that could have been picked up from any suburb in the country and dropped in the field. It did smell of animal shit, though, so Jack guessed it was close enough.

“I don’t see a sign for goat pickup,” Blink said.

“Yeah, so let’s knock on the door.” Jack headed towards the house door. “Oh, and thanks for not killing me on the way here.”

“There’s still the drive home,” Blink said.

Spot laughed.

Jack knocked on the door.

A girl about their age opened it. “Can I help you?”

“Uh yeah, I’m here to pick up Billy.”

“Right, just a second then.” She closed the door.

“Scared her off already, cowboy?” Blink said from right behind him.

Jack tried to think of a comeback but settled for just rolling his eyes.

The door opened again and the girl was holding some paperwork. “You’re Jack Kelly?”

“Yup.”

“I’m going to need to see some identification.”

Jack pulled out his non-driver ID card and offered it to her. She compared it to the paperwork, then handed both to him.

“He’s back this way.” She led them around the house, to a pen with some goats in it. She walked into the pen, tied a lead around one of the goats. She led the goat back over and handed the rope to Jack. “Enjoy your new lawnmower.”

“Right, thanks,” Jack said and headed back towards the truck where Spot and Mush were waiting for them.

Blink spoke up when they rounded the corner of the building and the girl was out of sight. “Never thought I’d see the day Jack Kelly didn’t take an opportunity to flirt with a pretty girl.”

“I have a boyfriend.”

“Never stopped you when we were dating.”

Jack stopped and turned to look at Blink. “It should have.” The goat butted into his leg. “I’m sorry I wasn’t a better boyfriend.”

Blink snorted and moved past him to continue back to the truck.

Jack shook his head and looked down at the goat. “You believe me, right Billy?”

Billy bent down and took a bite out of a weed.

Jack turned and followed Blink back to the truck.

Jack was pretty sure it was close to noon when the truck pulled up to their secret lair — well, Hotshot’s secret lair — the sun was straight overhead at least, making it hard for him to block the glare from his eyes. Billy was lying down next to him, chewing on his sleeve. For a farm animal, he’d been good enough company on the way back into town. Jack was going to miss him.

“Stay down until we’re in the garage,” Spot said after crawling out past Blink and Mush.

He heard the garage door protest from long disuse before opening, and then the truck pulled in. Jack waited for the door to shut before sitting up. He climbed out of the back, and his brother helped him lift the goat out of the bed, the tailgate had rusted solid sometime before any of them had been born.

“I don’t see a lawn,” Blink said.

Jack tried to think of some reason why they’d brought the goat here but froze when he saw Mush take a deep sniff of the air and then look at him.

“This isn’t some cult thing, right?” Mush asked. His tone was sarcastic, but the way he pinned Jack with his gaze told him Mush knew he wasn’t far from the mark.

Blink snorted. “Please, the day Jack finds religion is the day Hell freezes over.”

“According to Dante the bottom layer of Hell is frozen,” Mush said.

“I love that big brain of yours,” Blink said and leaned in to give Mush a quick kiss on the lips, then turned to face Spot, his hand held out. “Hook me up with that gas money, and we’ll get out of your weird cult’s hair.”

Spot pulled out his wallet and counted out two twenties into Blink’s outstretched hand. “Thanks for the ride, Blinken. Don’t be a stranger.”

Blink pocketed the money and clapped Spot on the back. “Not like you don’t have my phone number, you don’t need to wait for your brother to need me to hangout.” He hooked his thumb at the door. “Be an angel and get the door for me.”

Spot shot Jack a look and headed for the garage door.

Jack led the goat out of the line of sight and waited for Blink and Mush to leave and the door to close before heading toward the basement stairs.

“Hang on.” Spot stopped him at the top of the stairs. “We should probably check on them first, and the longer Race goes without seeing it, the better. Tie it up somewhere.”

“Him, not it,” Jack said.

“Don’t tell me you’re falling for it now? It’s meat, short-lived meat.”

Jack knew his brother was right, but now that they had the goat, he was very uncomfortable with the whole thing. He handed the rope to Spot. “You better take him. I’ll go downstairs and let them know we’re here. You’d just distract Race anyhow.”

Spot narrowed his eyes but nodded.

“Be on the lookout in case they come back. Mush smelled something he didn’t like.” Jack headed down the stairs without waiting for a response.

The silvery diagram he’d spent two weeks painting filled a large section of the basement floor, illuminated by the flashlights they’d carried down here. Unlit candles were placed at some of the junctions but not others. He couldn’t see any pattern to their placement but trusted Davey to have gotten it right. Race was sitting with his back against one of the pillars, a few pieces of paper clutched in one hand, and spinning a titanium dive knife in his other hand. The knife had cost almost as much as the goat, but Davey and Race insisted there couldn’t be any iron in the ritual, except whatever was in their bodies already, which meant no steel. It also meant they’d need to move the flashlights before starting.

“Back already?” Davey’s voice sounded in his ear.

Jack almost jumped out of his skin. He turned and fixed his boyfriend with a glare.

Davey laughed. “Don’t pretend you didn’t deserve it.”

“I’m not going to dignify that with a response.”

“Did you get the goat?”

“Yeah. It’s upstairs with Spot.” He kissed Davey on the lips. “Mush came with us, and he definitely smelled something upstairs, pry the two of youse down here, but he didn’t say anything and left with Blink.”

“We’ll have to be careful. Any interference in the ritual could be bad.”

“Could be?”

“Might summon a god that tries to eat the planet. Might just cause it to fizzle. The book Race got it from is dangerous and not very specific. I’d only heard of it before now. I don’t know anyone else who’s even seen a copy.”

“Oh, and your book is so much safer?”

Davey pulled out his phone and opened a file to show him. “ _ Liber Ivonis _ , or the  _ Book of Eibon _ . You’ll find a copy in almost every sorcerer’s library. It’s the closest thing there is to a Magic 101 book.”

“And that?” Jack gestured at the diagram.

“Someone’s Master’s thesis.”

“You really think this will work?”

“If the copy of the spell in that book is genuine, and no one fucked up a translation when writing it. Then we followed it exactly so far.” He turned and looked at Race. “It all depends on Race finishing it now.”

“I can feel you looking at me.” Race called across the room.

“Let’s leave him alone.” Davey took Jack’s hand and pulled him back up the stairs to the first floor.

Spot appeared to be engaged in a staring contest with Billy.

“Goats have messed up eyes,” Spot said when he heard them arrive.

“Don’t get too attached,” Davey said.

“Don’t worry. I can see why they draw the devil as part goat.” Spot blinked and looked away. “Seriously look at the eyes. They’re shaped like minus signs.”

Jack leaned down and looked at Billy’s eyes. His brother was right. The way Billy just stared at him with them was pretty creepy. He looked away and stepped back. “Those are messed up.”

“Like I said,” Spot said. “Everything ready here?”

Davey nodded and checked his phone. “Just need to wait a couple of hours until the time is right. Race is downstairs practicing his pronunciation.”

“We’re doomed,” Spot said.

Davey frowned at him, then turned to Jack. “Let’s go get some food.”

“Where from?”

“Whatever pizza place is closest.” Davey glanced back at Spot. “What toppings do you want?”

“Hawaiian.”

Jack made a face. “You can eat your abomination alone.”

Spot shrugged. “Race will share with me.”

“Doesn’t count, Race will put anything in his mouth.”

It was almost three in the afternoon. Billy was secured to a pillar inside a small circle at one of the cardinal points of the larger circle. The candles had all been lit and their flickering orange light reflected off the flakes of aluminum, mixed with the concrete from where Race and Spot had been attacked, painted over the chalk marks Davey had checked so many times. Race was standing, in his underwear, in a small circle at the next cardinal point clockwise from the goat. They weren’t sure what metal the zipper in his jeans was made from, so he’d had to leave them upstairs. He shivered a little. They didn’t have any heat apart from the candles and the basement was chilly. Jack and Spot had also left their phones upstairs with Race’s possessions. Davey was the only one in the basement with his, and he only kept it to keep track of the time.

Davey was walking around the diagram, checking the pattern one last time.

“Relax, Daves, it’s fine,” Race said.

Davey waved him off and kept checking.

“And if it isn’t, it’s too late now.”

The phone in Davey’s hand chimed. “One minute.” He hurried out of the diagram and to Jack’s side. “Ready, Race?”

Race adjusted his grip on the knife in his hand. “Not really, but too late to turn back now.”

The phone chimed again. “Thirty Seconds. I’ll give you a countdown from ten.”

Race nodded.

“Ten.”

Jack blinked, it didn’t feel like it had been twenty seconds already, he knew Davey wouldn’t get it wrong.

“Nine. Eight. Seven”

The candles flared brighter. The lines of paint between them looked like tiny rivers of light.

“Six. Five. Four. Three. Two.”

Squinting against the light, Jack noticed that the candles and the lines between them looked like a constellation. He wondered if it was an illusion or intentional.

“One. Go.” Davey finished his count.

“ _ Daoloth k'yarnak kadishtuor na’hai. _ ”

Race was facing the mirror in the center of the circle. His voice was firm, but Jack could see a slight tremor in his hands. Race turned to his right and paced counterclockwise around the diagram. Thirteen steps to the next cardinal point. Race turned to face the center.

“ _ Daoloth k'yarnak kadishtuor na’hai. _ ”

Race’s voice was still firm, but the echoes of it seemed to be coming from farther away now. Race took thirteen more steps around the circle.

“ _ Daoloth k'yarnak kadishtuor na’hai. _ ”

The candles flared again, shining like stars in the dark of the basement. No echoes of Race’s words came back to them now, and against the candles’ bright glare Jack couldn’t make out the walls or ceiling, just Race, the candles, and the diagram. Race continued counterclockwise around the circle, reaching the point where Billy was tied up. He knelt in front of the goat and brought the knife in his hand to his throat.

“ _ Daoloth k'yarnak kadishtuor na’hai. _ ”

Race slit Billy’s throat in one fluid motion. The candles flared and went out, but the lines of paint still reflected light from somewhere. Race turned and began pacing along one of the lines toward the center of the diagram. It was like the goat’s blood was seeping into the paint, staining the lines with a sick red light that grew darker with each step Race took toward the heart of the vast sigil. When Race took the last step the room was plunged into darkness more absolute than Jack had ever thought possible. He reached out and seized Davey’s hand.

“ _ Daoloth k'yarnak kadishtuor na’hai. _ ”

They weren’t alone in the basement anymore. If they even were still in the basement. Jack could feel something else there with them. He couldn’t see, hear, or smell anything. The room was colder than he’d thought possible, and the only thing he could feel was Davey’s hand clutched in his own. Davey was tense, but he didn’t feel worried. Not that Jack was sure what that would feel like in a hand. He couldn’t see anything but thought that might be for the best.

A glow sprang up from the center of the diagram and in an instant sensation flooded back. It was still dark, but Jack could see the echoes of the sunlight above shining through the stairwell. Jack could hear the distant noise of traffic on the street outside. Jack could smell the smoke from the snuffed candles. He looked back in the direction of the center of the diagram and saw Race collapsed in front of the mirror there.

Jack lunged toward his best friend, but Davey held him back. Jack turned to look at him.

“He’s not hurt,” Davey said.

Jack turned and looked at Race. He realized Race was crying. He disentangled his hand from Davey’s and headed to Race.

Spot was already there, holding Race in his arms while Race sobbed on his shoulder.

A soft voice was coming from in front of them. Jack looked at the mirror and saw a woman with curls of blonde hair playing with a tiny towheaded boy. She was whispering something in Italian. Jack guessed they were in the apartment Race grew up in.

“I thought it was supposed to show us the grain elevator?”

Davey came up next to him and looked in the mirror. “Race’s subconscious,” he paused and looked at Race, “or conscious desire to see his mother must have affected it.”

“Did we get the right date at least?” Jack asked.

Davey studied the image. “Race looks about four, and the time on the clock over there looks right. So I think so.”

“So now what?” Spot asked.

“Now we watch and wait.”

“And figure out what to do with a goat corpse,” Spot said.

“No need.” Davey pointed to where Billy had been.

Jack turned to look. There was no sign of the goat. In fact, there was no sign of the diagram he’d spent so long painting either. Only candle stubs and the mirror were left.

“Okay, I’m really not sure how the fuck to feel about that,” Spot said.

Jack nodded in agreement.


	26. Mirror Mirror

Race had calmed down some and was watching the mirror with David. They were sitting cross-legged on the ground floor. Race’s mother, Elena, was just putting him to bed, in a bright red racecar bed. David wondered if that had anything to do with Race’s nickname, he’d still never gotten the story behind it, and whenever he asked Jack he got a different answer. Race’s mom finished her Italian lullaby, kissed the younger Race on the forehead, turned off the lights, and left the room. The mirror’s view followed her to the kitchen.

“Harold should be here soon. Is the babysitter on the way?” Race’s father, Aidan, asked from where he was seated at the small kitchen table.

Elena rolled her eyes. “Yes, of course.” She moved past him into the kitchen, pausing only to ruffle his strawberry blond hair, and headed to the coffee machine

“You need to take this more seriously.”

She stopped what she was doing and turned to glare at him. “I am taking this seriously. You think I don’t know how many of us they’ve killed? We buried my sister last week, Aidan, my fucking sister. And at least they left her body for us to bury.” She wiped a tear from her face and turned back to the coffee maker. “But we’ve hurt them too. This ends tonight.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Someone knocked on the apartment door and Race’s father answered, letting in the babysitter, a girl of about sixteen who lived in the same apartment building.

Race jumped as the door into the garage banged open. David tensed, but relaxed when he saw it was Jack and Sean laden down with bags of Thai food, the darkened street framed in the door behind them.

Jack sat down next to David and handed him an order of curry chicken. “We miss it?”

“The babysitter just showed up, and they’re waiting on Harold.”

Race shushed them but accepted his food from Sean.

David took a bite of his food and focused back on the mirror.

There was another knock on the apartment door, and a man they all assumed to be Harold was let in. He had brown hair, a long beard, and was bulky with muscles. He was wearing a red flannel shirt that was too warm for the summer weather and carrying a duffel bag filled with several long items.

“What’s in the bag?” Sean asked.

David was pretty sure he knew but stayed silent after Race shushed them all again.

“I’ve brought presents,” Harold said and set the bag down on the coffee table.

Elena held up her hand to stop him from opening the bag. “Show us on the way, the babysitter is here.”

Harold nodded and picked the bag up.

They headed for the door. Race’s mom stopped before leaving to call back to the babysitter. “Madison, we’re leaving. The emergency numbers are on the fridge.”

“Okay, Mrs. Higgins.” Came the voice from Race’s room.

“So is this the last time you saw them?” Sean asked.

“No, Harold dies tonight, they disappear tomorrow night.” Race was still transfixed by the scene in the mirror.

The image followed his mother out of the building and down the block to an older SUV. Aidan unlocked it and climbed into the driver’s seat. Elena took the passenger’s seat, and Harold shared the back with his duffel bag.

Harold unzipped the bag as soon as Aidan pulled away from the curb and into traffic. Elena turned around in her seat to watch him pull weapons out. He first pulled out four swords, matte black except where sigils had been etched into their blades, and all of a simple gladius like design.

“Only four?” Elena asked.

“All that’s left, we lost the rest of the arsenal with Maria,” Harold said before pulling out several handguns and a single semi-automatic rifle. “And these guns were all I could get on short notice. We’re short on ammo too.”

“Great,” Aidan said while keeping his eyes on the traffic around them.

“Why bother with swords if they have guns?” Sean asked.

“There are things with bulletproof hide,” David said. “Or bulletproof against anything you can legally get anyhow.”

“Why not just enchant them like those swords?”

“You saw what making this mirror took. Doing that for every single bullet? I won’t say no one has ever done it, but I doubt anyone has more than enough for a revolver on hand.”

“So what do those swords do?” Jack asked.

David studied the sigils on them as best he could, it was hard since the mirror was focused on Elena. “That one,” he pointed at the one set aside for Aidan, “should light the wounds on fire. I don’t recognize the others.”

“That’s pretty horrific,” Sean said, “lighting them on fire?”

David just shrugged and ate some more chicken.

Elena accepted two of the handguns and some extra ammo and checked them over with well-practiced ease. “It’ll just have to be enough then.”

“There’s only three of us left. How many of them are there again? Oh right, hundreds.” Aidan said.

“Hundreds of humans,” Elena made a dismissive gesture, “It’s only the three sorcerers left, sounds even to me.”

“I hate fair fights,” Harold said.

“So do I,” said a voice from behind the four boys watching the mirror.

David spun around while standing up, grabbing the diving knife from Race’s back pocket as he did. He wished it was closer to the full moon when his eyes landed on Mush, his eyes flashing with eyeshine.

The other three were still struggling to stand up.

David pulled the sheath off the knife and crouched, ready for a fight. “Four on one doesn’t seem much better for you.”

Mush’s eyes darted over them and he sniffed at the air. “Only three of you are wolves, and the new moon was only three days ago.” There were quiet popping sounds, and the nails on his silver covered fingers twisted into claws. “And I don’t think your boyfriend has been a dog for long. If I was here to fight, I’d like my chances.”

David’s senses were no better than an ordinary human’s that close to the new moon. If Mush had wanted to hurt them, he could have struck before they’d even known he was there.

“So what are you here for?” Sean asked, having positioned himself between Mush and Race, who was guarding the mirror.

Jack stepped up on David’s right and glared at Mush while making a fist and making sure to show his gold ring in the dim light.

Mush glanced at Jack’s ring and then the matching one on David’s finger. “I didn’t know you two were that serious.” His gaze shifted to Sean. “Why is the human protecting the dog? You do know that they’re werewolves, right?”

Sean nodded and shifted into a boxer’s stance, which was made somewhat less intimidating by the cast still on his arm. “Come closer and you’ll see what else I know.”

“I’m here to make sure you idiots don’t call up anything you can’t put down.” Mush shifted to the side and eyed the mirror behind Race. “That what you needed the goat for?”

David gave a shallow nod, not moving his eyes from Mush’s.

Mush looked from David to Race and then back to David. “I’m guessing you’re the packleader?”

None of them moved.

“Why don’t you show me where you made this thing?”

“Why?” Jack asked.

“He’s worried we fucked it up,” David said.

“Well we didn’t, so thank you for going with us to get the goat, but the door is over there.” Jack pointed toward the garage door.

Mush didn’t even look at Jack, his focus entirely on David. “See, I gather by the lack of a dozen werewolves hunting me for sport that you didn’t let any other packs know about me. I appreciate that, but if you’re going to let me keep living in this city, then I’d rather it not get sucked down to hell.”

David managed to keep any reaction from showing on his face, but it was a close thing. The truth was he should have reported Mush’s presence to his parents the day he found out, but he hadn’t. He’d been keeping so many secrets from his family since the day he came to New York, that it hadn’t even occurred to him to tell his parents about the nagual. He didn’t know what that said about him but knew his parents would be disappointed if they ever found out.

David nodded and sheathed the diving knife. He slipped it into his back pocket and straightened up. “I’ll show you.” He looked at Sean and Race. “You guys get back to watching, we’ll be back.” He glanced at Jack and then focused back on Mush.

Mush sized Jack up before nodding. He relaxed his hands, letting his claws retract and change back into fingernails. “After you.”

David headed towards the stairs. Mush followed him. Jack followed Mush.

David pulled out his phone as they tramped down the stairs and tried to turn on the flashlight. It was still drained from the ritual. Jack pulled out his phone though, offering some light. He pushed open the door at the bottom. All that remained of the ritual was candle stubs and the remains of a rope tied around one of the pillars.

Mush paced around the room

“How is he able to see in the dark?” Jack asked.

“He shifted his eyes,” David said.

“No he didn’t, his pupils are still round.”

Mush looked toward them, his eyes shining green in the dim light. “I’m a jaguar, not a housecat.”

“What’s the difference besides size?” Jack asked.

“For starters, big cats don’t have slitted eyes. I’m sure Wikipedia can tell you the rest.”

“Did you know that?” Jack whispered into David’s ear.

David shook his head, unwilling to give Mush the satisfaction of hearing him admit it.

David and Jack followed Mush back up the stairs once the nagual was content they hadn’t summoned anything. David could almost respect his paranoia. He wished Race shared a little of it. The three of them walked over to the mirror. Race’s parents and Harold were still in the car.

“What’d we miss?” Jack asked.

Sean looked at them, taking the chance to glare at Mush before answering, “Traffic.”

Jack reached down to grab his carton of pad thai, but Mush snagged it before he could. “Hey!”

“I like dinner with a show.”

“Who said you’re staying?” Sean asked.

“I did.”

“And why should we listen to you?”

“First, we have as much right to know what happened in this city as the dogs. Second, I probably know things you four don’t. And third,” he speared a chunk of meat out of the carton with a claw, “trying to fight me about it isn’t worth your time.”

David sighed, he wasn’t at all confident they could take him, he was right that it wasn’t worth the trouble to try. He sat down in front of his curry and pulled Jack down beside him. “We can share.”

“Why’s he get my food?”

Mush sat down between David and Spot. “Because of how you treated Blink.”

Jack grumbled but ate a piece of David’s chicken.

“Shut up assholes, they’re there!” Race didn’t even turn around to look at them, still transfixed by the last days of his parents’ lives.

“What are we watching,” Mush whispered in David’s ear.

“The last three oboroten in New York City, they’re about to fight the cult they think sealed the city. According to his mom’s journal, the tall one in the back will get killed by a fishman in there.” David spoke under his breath, to avoid disturbing Race, knowing Mush would hear him.

“A Chyrlid?”

David blinked. “What?”

“The Chyrlid Ajha,” Mush said, “the people of the water.” He looked at David and shook his head. “Your people have had control of the North Atlantic coast for four hundred years and you still don’t know anything about it?”

Put like that, it was rather shameful.

“I suppose you just attacked any envoys they sent?”

David imagined they had. “I’m only eighteen, and I grew up in Phoenix. I didn’t attack anyone.”

Mush’s snort was silent, but David felt the puff of air from his nose on his ear. “You know I mean dogs in general.”

“I wish you wouldn’t call us that.”

“Give back our land and I’ll stop.”

Mush’s anger was more than justified. There was no reply David could give to that, so he chose to focus on the mirror.

The three oborotni were approaching the grain elevator. It didn’t appear to be in any better repair than it was now. It was dark and still as they approached, but there were too many cars parked nearby for it to be as empty as it appeared. There was no one visible when they crossed the threshold. Aidan took the lead as the three approached the marked pillar, which was missing a few dozen lairs of graffiti, the strange sigil clear.

“The seal of the Chyrlid Ajha,” Mush whispered in his ear.

Assuming he was telling the truth, David had to admit to himself at least, that the nagual might be useful to have around.

Aidan pulled a small leather pouch out from around his neck and produced a severed finger from it.

“Ugh, why’d he have that around his neck?” Race asked, but no one had an answer for him.

Aidan swiped the finger against the sigil on the pillar. There was a soft click and the pillar swung open. A ladder leading down was revealed, illuminated by flickering blue-green light from below. The sound of chanted words in a language David had never heard echoed up from the depths.

“Is that their language?” David asked Mush.

“Not sure, they don’t frequent the Pacific Rim,” Mush whispered, “I’ve only met one and she spoke Spanish.”

Aidan put the severed finger back in the pouch around his neck and tucked it away, while Elena started down the ladder. He followed his wife, and Harold followed last. At least David assumed so, the mirror was still focused on Race’s mom. The echoes of chanting grew louder as they descended the ladder. Elena paused at the bottom to consider the luminous water below her that was the source of the blue-green light above. She probed it first with a foot, her expression showed no change so David guessed it wasn’t hurting her. She climbed down another rung and probed further into the glowing liquid with caution to avoid making any sound. It seemed to only be ankle-deep, so she slipped her other foot in and moved away from the base of the ladder.

The tube the ladder ran through opened into a hallway on one side. Elena moved to the edge and peered around the corner, into the hallway beyond, while she waited for her companions to join her. She spun to glare at Harold when he splashed into the water behind Aidan. Harold gave a sheepish grin and Elena turned to look back around the corner. It didn’t look like the splash had been heard above the chanting, which now held a dreamlike, droning quality.

Elena made a hand gesture David knew meant the area ahead was clear and directed Aidan and Harold out into the hallway, only moving up once they’d taken positions nearer to the open door the chanting was coming from. The light streaming from the water around their feet cast eerie shadows on the walls and ceiling.

Race reached out and touched the mirror’s frame. He closed his eyes for a moment and the view in the mirror changed, shifting the focus from his mother to the room just beyond the doorway. Race opened his eyes but kept a finger on the frame.

About three dozen robed people were gathered in rows, chanting. They were facing the far wall, where a strange stone statue rose. It was rough-hewn but depicted a humanoid form covered in crude renditions of scales. What seemed to be a fin raised over its head and running down its back. Its hands were held out before it, an open book placed on the platform they made. David recognized the page they’d found with Elena’s journal. David pulled out his phone and tried to take a picture of the facing page before the black screen reminded him it had been drained by being too close to the ritual. Race brought the picture closer, zooming in on the book and took a picture on his phone. David noticed Mush doing the same. Race adjusted the view again, circling around the statue and revealing a small golden chest nestled between the stone figure’s feet. There was a hole in the floor behind the statue, the glow more intense in its depths, bubbles streaming up to the surface.

“It’s not a very good likeness, and I’ve never heard of anyone worshiping the Chyrlid.” Mush breathed near David’s ear.

Race spun the view around, showing them the room from the statue’s perspective.

The cowls of the cultists’ robes left their faces mostly obscured in shadows. They could just see the side of Elena’s head as she looked around the corner into the sanctum. Their chant droned on.

Jack scooted closer to David’s other side and rested his head on David’s shoulder.

“Don’t fall asleep now,” David said.

“It’s been a long day, and this chant is not helping,” Jack said.

“What are they waiting for? Why don’t they just attack?” Race asked.

One of the cultists in the front row broke ranks with the rest and approached the statue. They knelt in front of the statue and kissed its feet. The congregation’s chanting stopped when the figure stood back up, David could hear his own heartbeat in the sudden silence. The figure threw back their cowl to reveal their face. He had short brown hair, gelled back against his head. He might have been considered handsome were it not for his protuberant brown eyes and wide mouth. Despite that, his features were almost familiar, though David was sure he’d never seen him before. The man turned around, his footsteps splashing in the silence that had fallen over the room.

The man spoke into the eerie silence, his face looking grotesque in the flickering light from the water below. “We gather now, after nightfall on the longest day of the year to reflect on what we have learned on this Summer Tide, as is tradition, but also to celebrate. The Patriarch has sent word, and soon the vermin that have plagued us will be exterminated.” The congregants cheered, though David noticed some seemed less enthusiastic than the others.

David watched Aidan lean around the corner with the rifle. A burst of gunfire disrupted the cultist’s celebration. The man who’d been speaking jerked twice as bullets thudded into his shoulder, a shower of stone dust showing where a third bullet struck the statue.

Mush snorted next to him. “Typical dogs, shoot first and ask questions never.”

“Your friends’ cult had all but exterminated them before this,” David said.

“In a fight your lot started I bet.”

“Shut up!” Race hissed without looking away from the mirror.

Pandemonium had erupted after the gunshots. The cultists had scattered to the sides to the sides of the room and the oborotni had advanced into the room. Aidan’s sword was across his back, the rifle in his hands trained on the leader who had slumped against the statue. Elena had a pistol in one hand, and a sword in the other, a second pistol in her belt. She was covering half the room. Harold held a sword in each hand and was covering the other half.

“Where’s your boss, Delancey?” Aidan demanded as he advanced on the figure crumpled on the ground, holding his shoulder.

“Holy shit, he looks just like Morris, if someone beat him with the ugly stick for a while,” Sean said.

Mush snapped his fingers. “That’s who he reminds me of.”

David leaned in closer while Race adjusted the view to show the fallen man’s face. It definitely was the Delancey brothers that the man reminded him of.

“He’s not here, dog.” The elder Delancey spat out along with some blood.

“Bullshit, where else would he be on one of your unholy days?” Harold asked, his eyes not leaving the cultists he was covering.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” the man on the floor said, and pulled his hand away from his wound, examining the blood on it before grasping the base of the statue to pull himself up into a sitting position. “You’ll have to kill me.”

“Hoods down,” Elena said.

No one moved.

Elena fired a shot into the water behind the robed figures on her side of the room.

Some of the congregants lowered their hoods.

“All of you,” Elena said.

The rest lowered their hoods.

Elena looked over her side of the room, checking each individual.

“Hold up, ain’t that Weasel?” Jack pointed at one of the men.

“Weasel?” David asked.

“Our high school principal. Oscar and Morris’s uncle,” Sean said.

“He’s not over here,” Harold said.

“Or here.”

“Check the other side of the room, see if we know anyone else,” Jack said.

Race swiveled the view around to show the other half of the room while Aidan advanced on Delancey.

David and Mush both noticed the instant Sean stiffened. David’s eyes flicked to the mirror, studying the faces to try and guess who he’d recognized. His eyes landed on a red-haired woman with the eerie, protuberant eyes several of the cultists shared, eyes the same shade of brown as Sean’s. There was a sinking feeling in David’s stomach.

“Momma?” Sean’s voice was just above a whisper, but they all heard it.

“What the fuck?” Race asked, focusing the view on the woman with Sean’s eyes.

Sean didn’t say anything else, just reached out and let his fingers trail down her face.

David saw Jack take a picture of the woman in the mirror, but didn’t have time to wonder about it.

“Okay, that’s one coincidence too many.” Mush’s voice was quiet in David’s ear.

David nodded, because what else could he do? It was too many coincidences. Jack and Sean being assigned to the same dorm room. Race and David, the only two werewolves in the city, being assigned to the same dorm room. Their high school bullies being related to the members of the cult that killed Race’s parents, and now Sean too. Well, Sean could almost be explainable. If Race and Sean were orphaned by the same war, then their meeting wasn’t impossible, but still improbable. Now that David thought about it, there was at least one more coincidence too.

“What about you suddenly showing up here, rooming with Jack’s ex, and knowing a lot of convenient information about this cult?” David whispered back.

David heard an intake of breath before Mush responded. “I was randomly assigned…”

“So was I. So was Sean.”

“We should take a look at the housing office.”

David nodded.

They turned their attention back to the mirror. The oborotni had herded all the cultists against the wall. Sean’s eyes were still fixed on his mother. 

Aidan still had his gun trained on Delancey. “Anyone want to volunteer any information, or should I start adding some more holes?”

The cultists milled about, but kept their eyes down. No one spoke.

“Alright.” Aidan shouldered the gun and took aim at Delancey.

“No!” A woman’s voice came from the back of the robed figures.

“Don’t tell them anything!” Delancey said.

Aidan kept the gun trained on Delancey but focused his attention on the woman who emerged from the crowd.

“Please, don’t hurt him anymore. He’s telling the truth, you can see the Patriarch isn’t here.”

“Look at Delancey’s hand,” Mush said, loud enough for everyone watching the mirror to hear.

Delancey had traced a sigil in his own blood on the statue’s base — the symbol from the pillar above in the center of a rudimentary calling circle — and he was mouthing words under his breath.

“He’s calling reinforcements,” David said.

Mush nodded.

“And where is the Patriarch?” Aidan spoke the last word with disdain.

“You can’t tell him,” Weasel said, trying to grab the woman’s shoulder only to be forced back by a lunge from Harold.

“He’s at our other temple in—”

“Eliza, No!” Delancey called from the floor.

Aidan put a bullet in his leg, eyes never leaving the woman.

“Staten Island. I don’t know the address. Please stop,” she begged.

“It’s too late, they won’t get out of here alive.” Delancey pressed his finger to the bloody sigil, and it pulsed with the same blue-green light as the water.

“Fuck.” Aidan put a bullet in Delancey’s head.

The pulsing sigil didn’t fade.

The woman screamed and flung herself at Delancey’s body.

“Did Race’s dad just kill Oscar and Morris’s dad?” Jack asked.

“What is it, El?” Harold asked.

“Calling sigil. We’re about to have company.”

Harold swiped one of his blades through the sigil, cutting stone and breaking the glow. “Now?”

“The call went out, whatever he called will still come,” Elena said.

“I think we can guess what it summoned.” Aidan indicated the statue.

Almost half of the cultists took the chance offered by the oborotni’s distraction and ran for the entrance. Aidan spun and fired into them. Clustered together like that he was guaranteed to hit some. Four fell, one clutching at her throat, one at his side, the last two at their legs. The rest made it around the corner, not that it would have done them much good, only one at a time could make the ascent up the ladder. Aidan stalked toward the door.

“Ignore them, company is here,” Harold said, pointing at the dying glow rising from the flooded void behind the statue. Something was blocking out the light, rising up through it.

A taloned hand covered in tiny sea-green scales burst through the surface and grasped the edge of the hole.

Aidan and Elena backed away.

Harold charged forward, confronting the creature as it heaved its scaly body into the air. Naked apart from a leather strap around its chest, to which a golden trident was attached, and a few bits of coral jewelry. The scales shaded from sea-green on the arms, legs, back, and crest, to deep blue across the face and belly. Harold swung the sword in his right hand, the sigil etched on the blade pulling in the light around it, and took off the fish creature’s hand.

The thing screamed in pain, sounding far more human than David had expected, and fell back, clutching at the stump of their wrist. It wasn’t bleeding, it looked like the blood was frozen. They dodged Harold’s next blow, and reached over their head to pull the trident out but were disarmed by a sweep of Harold’s two swords.

“Harold!” Elena called in warning as a second figure erupted from the hole.

The second one leapt into the room with the grace of a breaching dolphin, scales such a deep purple that they almost looked black with two crests running from the tip of their head to the small of their back. They already had a trident grasped in both hands and thrust it at Harold’s exposed back.

Elena’s warning gave Harold enough time to spin about and parry the blow, turning his back to the one-handed foe behind him. The blue-green one at his back struck out with the vicious talons on their remaining hand. The deep gouges they left started sealing up almost as fast as they opened, but it distracted Harold enough for the deep purple one to impale him with their trident. Harold screamed in pain, and David was certain both a lung and his liver had been hit. They could all see the edges of Harold’s wound blackening as the trident was wrenched free, allowing blood to spill out. Harold fell to his knees.

“Wait, what? That spear is gold,” Race said.

David and Mush both focused on the golden trident, it was too pale to be pure gold. David had thought it was some sort of bronze when he first saw it, but having seen the wound it left on Harold, limited the options of what it could be.

“Electrum,” David and Mush both said and then glanced at each other.

“I thought you said only silver could hurt you?” Sean asked.

“Electrum is an alloy of silver and gold,” Mush said before giving David a smug look for explaining first.

David narrowed his eyes at the nagual but turned his attention back to the mirror where, with Harold out of the way, Aidan had opened fire on the two fish-men who were now sheltering behind the statue, which David had to admit wasn’t a very good likeness compared to the real thing.

A third creature sprang from the hollow behind the statue, smaller than the other two, with dark red scales and no crest. They were adorned in golden jewelry and instead of a trident they held a sigil carved stone rod. Some of the sigils along its length sparked with the same blue-green light as the water they were fighting in. It gestured at Aidan and the ankle-deep water surrounding him flowed up and over him, trapping him in a bubble of seawater that forced its way into his nose and down his throat as they watched. Aidan was caught by surprise but only gagged once before getting control of himself. Despite the fact that he was drowning, he seemed angrier that his gun wasn’t working.

David jumped when Jack covered his hand with his own. He knew Jack noticed, and probably Mush too, but he didn’t think Sean or Race had seen. Jack gave him a knowing frown and gave his hand a squeeze. David turned his hand over and laced their fingers together.

Elena took a shot at the smaller one, winging it in the shoulder. It grunted in pain, and took cover behind the statue, keeping the rod with the glowing sigils aimed at Aidan. She charged forward with her sword, but the deep purple one turned its attention from Harold, who had stopped bleeding but was gasping for breath, his silver inflicted wounds unable to heal, to Elena. Trident met sword, the sigils on Elena’s blade sucking in the light just like Harold’s, and leaving ice crystals forming in the blood still dripping from the trident.

Aidan dropped his gun and pulled his sword from the sheath across his back. He half-charged and half-swam toward the one with the rod trained on him, the envelope of water flowing with him. His mouth was open, gasping for air that wasn’t there, and David knew the pain he was in all too well. The blue-green creature stepped between the smaller red one and Aidan, brandishing their trident one-handed. Aidan’s slashes were slowed by the water surrounding him. The other’s piercing strikes weren’t slowed by the water, but they had difficulty maneuvering it with only a single hand. Their battle was well-matched.

The red one opened their mouth, showing dozens of needle-like teeth and pricked one of their fingers on them, letting a few drops of blood fall first into the water at their feet, and then onto the rod still held in their other hand. A different set of sigils pulsed with blood-red light. They flicked the tip of the rod in Elena’s direction, causing the enchantment holding Aidan to fail and releasing all the glow as a blade of ruby light. It struck her in the shoulder, taking her sword arm off. Elena screamed in pain, raising the gun in her other hand, but her opponent knocked it from her hand with the butt of their trident. The purple one spun the trident around, intent on striking Elena, but stumbled. Harold had crawled forward and wrapped both arms around their leg. They made a disgusted noise, readjusted their grip, and stabbed downwards, the central prong of the trident cleaving through Harold’s spine.

No longer slowed by the water, Aidan scored a hit against his enemy, drawing a line of bright red blook down their blue-green side. Aidan pulled back after that, going on the defensive, and signaled for Elena to retreat.

Elena lunged for the book, fingers scrabbling at one of the open pages. Sean’s mother lunged forward and grasped the book with both hands. Sean’s mother and Race’s mother struggled for only a moment before the page Elena was holding ripped free and she fled back the way they’d come. Sean’s mother fell back, clutching the book to her chest.

Aidan covered their retreat, backing out of the room with his sword held before him, ready to parry anymore strikes. But the one-handed creature appeared reluctant to attack and the other was having trouble prying their trident from between Harold’s vertebrae, giving him time to follow his wife and escape.


	27. Recharging

Jack walked into the dorm room alone. He’d left after watching Race’s mom regrow her arm. He hoped he never had to do that. It was strange being alone in the dorm room. Davey had given Jack his dead phone and the key to his and Spot’s room, which Jack used to unlock their door. He walked in and plugged Davey’s phone into its charger. The charging symbol flashed up on the screen, Jack hoped that meant the mirror had only drained the battery. He found Davey’s backpack, pulled out his laptop, and plugged that in to charge too.

Jack crossed the room back to the door and turned the light on. Then he went to his room, noticing that Race hadn’t locked the door, and turned those lights on too. He suppressed a shiver. Between whatever the hell had happened during that spell and sitting on the dark floor of the powerless building, Jack was more than a little shaken.

Jack plugged his own phone in to charge and sat down on his bed.

He’d lived with Race when he first changed and had watched over him almost every month since he was thirteen. He thought he’d known what he was getting into when he agreed to let Davey bite him, and in his head he had, but it hadn’t seemed real until now, not even when he first turned into a wolf. Werewolves had been real, but not all the other shit out there, not spells, not fish-men, not dark gods. They were though, they were all real, he’d seen them now, and that was the world he’d joined. For just a moment he wanted to blame Davey for not doing a better job of warning him, but he knew himself well enough to know it wouldn’t have stopped him. Jack took a deep breath. He’d chosen this world, but Davey and Race had been born to it. He couldn’t let them face it alone.

Jack collapsed backward then pulled himself back into a sitting position. If he let himself lie down now, he’d fall asleep. He had to head back to Hotshot’s secret lair in an hour. He could sleep when he got back. He had been sent back to get Davey’s laptop so they could record whatever happened next, Davey hitting himself for not having thought of it before they cast the spell.

Race refused to lose even one moment with his parents. Spot refused to leave now that he’d seen his birth mother in the mirror, and wasn’t that a mind fuck? Davey didn’t trust Mush enough to leave him alone with Spot and Race, and obviously didn’t trust Mush with keys to their dorm room. So Jack had been sent back alone. They knew from the journal that Race’s parents both made it home that night and wouldn’t disappear until the next night, so he had a little time to charge their phones and the laptop.

Jack got up and plugged Race’s laptop into a charger too. It’d be a good idea to have a backup to record with. Not that recording a magic mirror with a laptop webcam was going to give a great picture. He wished he knew a film major he could borrow a camera from.

He went back to Davey and Spot’s room and grabbed Spot’s gym bag. He dumped the contents out on his brother’s bed, wrinkling his nose at the stench of dried sweat. It was the biggest bag any of them owned so it would have to do. He pulled the blanket off Davey’s bed, he was about to shove it in the bag, but stopped himself and folded it up before putting it in the bag. Then he went back to his room, yanked the blanket off his bed, and shoved that in the bag without bothering to fold it. He grabbed a box of pop-tarts and shoved that in too.

He checked his phone, still forty minutes before he’d have to head back. He set an alarm for thirty minutes and lay down for a quick nap.

Jack only overslept by five minutes, which resulted in him just missing a train and having to wait twenty minutes for the next one. In the end, he made it back to the building almost half an hour later than he’d intended, but he figured there was no reason to tell any of them that. He banged on the door and waited.

Davey opened it a crack and let him in. His eyes darting up and down the street.

Jack squeezed past his boyfriend, pausing to kiss him on the lips, and then headed toward the mirror. Race and his brother were still stuck to it, but Mush was nowhere to be seen. He stopped and waited until he heard Davey’s footsteps come up behind him.

“Where’s the kitty cat?” He asked, his voice soft enough to not be heard by anyone but Davey, he hoped.

“Upstairs, behind a closed door. He wanted a nap and wasn’t willing to sleep around us for some reason.”

“And he trusts us not to run off with the mirror?”

“If he doesn’t already know where our dorm room is, he could sniff it out, and we can’t exactly take the mirror on public transit.”

“Yeah, we really should have thought about that when Race showed up with a full length,” Jack said.

“I was preoccupied with making sure we didn’t unleash a monster on Brooklyn.”

Jack resumed his walk toward the mirror and raised his voice. “It’s Brooklyn, do you really think anyone would notice another monster?”

Spot looked back and glared at him. “Quiet, he’s sleeping,” He whispered and gestured at the boy who Jack could now tell was lying down next to the mirror, his hand pressed against the image of his sleeping mother. Spot’s eyes narrowed and focused on the bag in his hand. “Is that my gym bag?”

Jack set it down and unzipped it. “I’ve claimed it on behalf of werewolf-kind.”

“That better not mean you pissed on it.”

Jack chuckled and tossed his blanket at Spot. “Not yet, but now I’m considering it.”

Spot took the blanket and draped it over Race.

Jack handed Davey his phone and then his blanket before sitting down to look at the mirror — Elena and Aidan were asleep in a dark room, clutching each other. Jack wondered how old they were, huddled together in the dark, they didn’t look that much older than any of them did.

Davey sat down beside him, draping the blanket around their backs and leaning his head on Jack’s shoulder. He checked his phone.

“You’ve only got about half a charge on your phone. I didn’t see any missed calls or voicemails though.”

Davey nodded and turned the phone off. “And the laptop?”

Jack pulled Davey’s laptop out of the bag and then Race’s. “I brought two, just in case. They’se as charged as I could get them.”

Davey nodded and yawned.

Jack wrapped his left arm around Davey’s shoulders and held him close. “Take a nap, baby. If Mush decides to attack us, I’ll make sure to scream really loud when he kills me.”

Davey shoved him with his shoulder but didn’t take his head off his shoulder. “Dork.” He closed his eyes.

Jack waited until Davey’s breath had evened out and he thought he was asleep. He glanced at his brother, he was still awake, his fingers carding through Race’s curls. Jack focused on Race. Even in sleep he looked for all the world like he wanted to climb into the mirror and hug his parents one last time.

Jack used his leg to pull the gym bag into arm’s reach, and then pulled a sketchbook and pencil out. He flipped to a blank page, which was harder than normal since he didn’t want to disturb Davey by moving his other arm, and started sketching.

Race favored his mother, they had the same hair and their faces had the same shape. He also shared her build. Jack paused while sketching them and tilted to the side to get a better look at Aidan. Race had his father’s nose and, Jack remembered, the same blue eyes. He’d never sketched a family before, not one that was actually related to each other at least. Jack guessed Race’s parents in the mirror were no more than ten years older than Race himself. It made the similarities so easy to see. He flipped to a fresh page in the sketchbook and started again, focusing more on Race and his father this time.

Jack yawned and stretched out. He and Davey had switched out on cat-watch sometime around dawn. He checked his phone and saw it was just before 10. He sat up and scratched his head. The floor of an abandoned building was not a comfortable place to sleep, which he should have known since it wasn’t his first time sleeping on the floor of an abandoned building.

Mush was back, trading whispers with Davey. He wrinkled his nose at that, Jack had already lost one boyfriend to the cat and didn’t intend to lose another. Granted he’d broken up with Blink months before he’d even met Mush, and he knew his concern was irrational, but he didn’t particularly care. Jack scooted closer to them and put his arm around Davey. When Mush looked at him, he pointed two fingers at his eyes and then at Mush, to let him know he was watching him.

Mush rolled his eyes and continued whispering in Davey’s ear.

Davey paused long enough to kiss Jack’s cheek and returned to their conversation.

Spot was passed out, and Race was sitting up, eyes fixated on his parents.

Elena and Aidan were sitting at their small kitchen table with some of the books he remembered from the storage unit spread out between them. They were speaking in soft tones, half-eaten and long-cold breakfasts shoved to the side.

Jack’s stomach growled.

“Your dog is hungry,” Mush said.

“We’re still not dogs,” Davey said.

“Once again, give back the land and I’ll stop.”

“You know that isn’t going to happen.”

Mush shrugged. “Sounds like a you problem.”

“So, what are we doing for food?” Jack asked.

“I guess someone has to go out again,” Davey said.

They both looked at Mush, who shook his head and then at Race and Spot. Nothing was going to pry Race away from the mirror, and Spot probably needed his sleep.

Davey sighed. “I’ll go,” he turned to face Mush, “but if you hurt one hair on any of their heads, I’ll have every pack in three states hunting you.”

Mush held up his hands. “You don’t have to worry about me. If I was going to try anything, I would have done it last night.”

Davey stared at him for a while before nodding and looking at Jack. “What do you want?”

“Something cheap. All this eating out is getting pricier than the damn goat.”

“Taco Bell?”

Mush rolled his eyes again. “Fine, but get me a large Baja Blast, and extra fire sauce.”

“Who said I was getting you anything?” Davey asked.

“I mean, I could gnaw off your arm. It’ll grow back.”

Davey made a face. “That itches like you wouldn’t believe. I’ll get plenty of tacos.”

“Oh, I’d believe it. And soft-shelled, not that hard-shelled shit, and extra meat.”

“Anything else, your majesty?”

Mush snorted. “If I think of anything, I’ll let your servant here know.” He gestured at Jack.

“I live but to serve,” Jack sketched a bow he’d had to learn for a play Medda directed in High School and forced him to be in.

Mush chuckled.

David laughed and placed a kiss on Jack’s forehead before heading out the door.

Jack closed and locked the door behind him, then headed back to the mirror and sat down near where it looked like Davey had been setting up his laptop.

“So, how long have you been an oboroten?” Mush asked.

“Not even two months, and don’t go getting fancy on my account, I’m fine with dog,” Jack said.

“I know, which is why I’m being pretentious.”

“You’re not going to make this easy, are you?” Jack snorted.

Spot snored and rolled over in his sleep. Jack looked over at the mirror to see Race still glued to it, and his parents still poring over books in their kitchen.

“You didn’t make it easy for Blink.”

“For which I have apologized.” Jack hoped he meant it too, he knew he’d been a jerk and was trying to do better. “He know about you?”

“Unlike you three, I know how to keep a secret.”

“Hey! We can keep a secret. Blame your fish friends for leaving zombie shark jaws lying around,” Jack gestured toward Spot as he spoke.

Mush glanced over and focused on the cast on Spot’s arm.

“Those make it a little hard to hide that there’s something fishy going on,” Jack said.

Mush groaned. “Please tell me that pun was unintentional.”

Jack flashed him his best smile.

Mush was about to say something but a noise came from the door and they both turned to look at it. It sounded like someone trying a key in the door.

“Davey must’ve forgot something,” Jack said.

“Your brother still has the keys, that isn’t your alpha,” Mush said.

“Fuck.” Jack looked over his shoulder, hoping the morning traffic outside would hide his voice from whoever was at the door, “Race, cover the mirror, we got company.” He turned back to face the door, sparing a glance for Mush. “Alphas aren’t a real thing, even the scientist who wrote that study later recanted it.”

Jack heard motion behind him, and Spot’s snoring came to a stop with a grunt.

The door unlocked and opened. Two men entered. A dark-haired white man in a dark red and blue plaid button-up with brown slacks, and a black man in a green sweater and khakis.

Jack relaxed. “How’s it going, Hotshot?” Jack’s eyes flicked to the other man the lawyer was with, Jack had seen him before, but couldn’t quite place it.

“Hotshot?” Spot asked from back by the mirror that Jack hoped was covered.

“Jack, Sean,” Hotshot glanced at Mush, and then looked over the nagual’s shoulder, “Anthony. Good to see you.”

Spot stepped around Jack and shook the man’s hand. “What’re you doing here, Hotshot?”

“Just making sure you didn’t burn the place down. Who’s your friend?” Hotshot gestured at Mush.

“Oh, this is Mush,” Spot said with a glance back.

“Mush?” Hotshot asked.

“Nick,” Jack said, realizing neither Spot nor Race knew Mush’s given name.

“But everyone calls me Mush,” Mush said.

“And who’s that?” Jack asked.

“Oh,” Hotshot turned to gesture at the other man and was interrupted.

“Graves,” Spot said.

Hotshot rolled his eyes before continuing. “This is my husband, Jesse.”

Jack stepped forward and held his hand out. “Hey, nice to meet you, Graves.”

Hotshot snickered.

Graves glared at his husband but shook Jack’s hand. “You’re enjoying this entirely too much.”

“Do you want to go back to your high school nickname?” Hotshot asked.

“No, I’ll take Graves over that.”

“Hold on, what was it?” Spot asked.

Hotshot started to say something, but Graves put his hand over his mouth. “Not. One. Word.”

Hotshot nodded and Graves removed his hand.

“Well, as you can see we haven’t burned it down,” Spot said and took a step toward the door.

“Why’d you have this secret lair anyhow?” Jack asked.

Spot glared at him from behind Hotshot and Graves.

“Why’d you need to borrow it?” Hotshot asked back, raising an eyebrow.

“Touché,” Jack said.

“That walking mouth your dating is rubbing off on you, Cowboy.”

“Louis?” Hotshot asked.

“No, Blink and I broke up a while ago. Actually, he’s dating Mush now,” Jack pointed at the nagual.

Hotshot nodded and looked Mush over.

Mush bristled under the observation, sniffed the air in the way Jack had seen Davey do so many times now, and froze. Only his eyes moved, studying Hotshot before focusing on Graves, his expression unreadable.

Hotshot noticed too. He turned toward Graves and lifted his chin, though his eyes didn’t leave Mush for even a second.

Graves sniffed the air and raised an eyebrow, then he nodded back to Hotshot.

“Oh my god, you have to be fucking kidding me,” Jack said, failing not to whine as he did.

“What?” Spot asked, looking from the frozen forms of Hotshot, Graves, and Mush to Jack who was burying his face in his palm.

“What are you?” Mush asked, his eyes still fixed on Graves.

“Oh, that,” Spot said.

Jack turned and focused on his brother. “Oh, that? Oh, that? You fucking knew and didn’t mention anything?” Jack took a step toward Spot.

“It wasn’t mine to tell,” Spot said in a decent imitation of Jack’s voice.

Jack narrowed his eyes at his older brother.

“Besides, I promised them.” Spot shrugged.

“Then why didn’t you ask them if you could tell us?”

“Because I promised you.”

Jack released an outraged sound.

Someone knocked on the door.

“Oh, what the hell. It’s unlocked!” Jack shouted.

Someone knocked again, or kicked. Now that Jack thought about it, it sounded more like someone kicking.

“Spot, let Davey in,” Jack said.

“What makes you think it’s Davey?”

“Well then why don’t you check?”

“Why don’t you check?”

Someone kicked on the door again.

“You’re standing right by the door, Spot.”

“Fine.” Spot cracked the door open and then opened it.

Davey stumbled in, laden down with bags from Taco Bell, and a full drink carrier. He stopped when he saw Hotshot and Graves, and froze when he noticed the standoff between the two of them and Mush.

“What’s going on?” Davey asked.

“That’s what I want to know, they all just froze and started talking like they all know some secret I don’t,” Race called from back near the covered mirror.

“Oh, well this is Hotshot,” Jack gestured at the lawyer, “who you might remember is letting us use his lovely secret lair, and who is also an oboroten.”

Davey dropped the bags he was holding, the drinks spilling out across the floor, and spun to look at Hotshot.

Jack gave the spilled drinks a forlorn look. He was pretty thirsty and, on top of that, could really use some caffeine. “And this is his husband, Graves—”

“Professor Jones-Johnson, my chemistry teacher,” Davey said.

Jack blinked before continuing. “Of course he is, what’s one more weird coincidence around here. Anyhow, he isn’t a werewolf, but is something cat-boy doesn’t like the smell of. Oh, and Spot knew and didn’t bother to tell us.”

Davey turned a glare on Spot.

“I promised them, same as I promised you. I didn’t tell them about you either.”

Jack focused back on Hotshot. “That about cover everything?”

Hotshot nodded.

“Still waiting to find out what you are,” Mush said to Graves and flexed claws Jack hadn’t noticed him growing.

Graves looked at Hotshot out of the side of his eye.

Hotshot nodded again.

“I’m a bouda,” Graves said.

“Never heard of it,” Mush said.

“Not unless you’ve got a powerful illusion,” Davey said at the same time.

“What are they?” Mush asked, his eyes darting to Davey and back to Graves.

“It’s what ghouls call themselves.”

“Is that so,” Mush stepped toward Graves, “we got a few nests of those in the Southwest.”

Graves took a step back, but his hands were changing.

The claws didn’t look much different from Jack’s or Davey’s when they changed, if it wasn’t still almost the new moon Jack would have thought for sure Graves was just another werewolf. Jack laughed to himself, just another werewolf, his life had gotten strange, and that was definitely saying something.

Davey gave him a weird look, but everyone else was focused on Mush and Graves.

“I know, believe me,” Graves said.

“You don’t smel muchl like a ghoul, but I’m not inclined to trust you much.”

“Look, I’m not a ghoul, but ghouls are also bouda. They’re just cursed, corrupted.”

“By who?” Davey asked.

Graves eyes focused on Davey, and he raised an eyebrow, “Who do you think, wolf?”

Davey cringed back from the anger in Graves’ voice. “Of fucking course.”

Spot looked at Davey. “Okay, I musta missed something if Dave is swearing.”

“He means the oboroten cursed them,” Race said.

“Why’d you do that?” Spot asked Davey.

“You know what? No?  _ I _ didn’t do it.  _ I _ don’t fucking know. But I do know that you are going to go buy us more drinks.” Davey advanced on Spot and started shoving him toward the door. “You two want anything from Taco Bell?”

“They are not staying,” Mush said.

“What, you’re the only one allowed to force their way in?”

Mush opened his mouth but nothing came out.

“That’s what I thought.” Davey opened the door and shoved Spot through it.

“Hey!”

“Two large Baja Blasts, three large Pepsis, and whatever you want.” Davey slammed the door and locked it. “And vodka if you have a fake ID,” he shouted through the closed door.

“You know he has the keys,” Jack said.

“And if he knows what’s good for him he won’t use them until he has the drinks.”


	28. Mirror Mirror Redux

“So if we’re not killing them, can I go back to watching the mirror?” Race asked.

David scrubbed his hand down his face, he hadn’t intended to reveal that much to the newcomers. Except of course they weren’t new to the city. If Hotshot had been the lawyer to bring suit against Snyder for what he did to Jack, Race, and Sean, then he’d been in town for a while. Maybe even since before the barrier went down.

“Yeah, go ahead, Racer,” Jack said after David didn’t speak.

David nodded but kept his attention on Hotshot and Graves. “So what is a bouda then?”

David heard the blanket pulled off the mirror behind him, and saw Graves and Hotshot glance at it. Their expressions were curious, but not shocked.

“Besides someone else you dogs screwed over?” Mush asked.

“Don’t start thinking the nagual are off the hook either,” Graves said to Mush. “And we’re, well, I’m a werehyena.”

“Just you?” David was shocked. “How is that possible.”

“He was bitten by a ghoul. We found a way to save him,” Hotshot said.

“How long have you two lived in New York?” David asked.

“A little more than three years. We moved here in 2015 when I finished law school and Jesse got his doctorate.”

“You were sent to investigate what happened?” David asked.

Hotshot shooks his head. “No. Actually, we were hoping that whatever happened would keep the rest of you,” he gestured at David and Mush, “away.”

“What?” David and Mush both asked.

Graves sighed. “I’m probably, maybe, the only living, uncursed, bouda. How, exactly, do you think the packs responded to me, Mr. Jacobs?”

David swiveled focus from his professor to Hotshot. “But you’re oboroten, you must have had family that could help?”

“Bitten, and only to keep me quiet after a rogue werewolf killed our parents,” Hotshot said. “We had a pack in Albuquerque, but the Phoenix pack was coming down hard on them because of Jesse. Well, and because they didn’t approve of our  _ lifestyle _ . So we left when we graduated college. We barely survived grad school in Boston. After that, it was New York or the middle of nowhere.”

David blanched at the mention of his home pack. He knew that describing them as conservative was an understatement, there was a reason he hadn’t been willing to go to school there with Sarah.

“So you change on the new moon like we do?” Mush asked.

Graves raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know why I should share anything with you.”

“So you knew Race, and just decided to let him grow up alone because you were afraid of the packs.”

Hotshot blinked and looked over David’s shoulder before focusing back on David. “I knew Race, I didn’t know Race was oboroten.”

“You didn’t know?” David said, trying to infuse his words with every shred of disbelief he was feeling.

“It’s not like I went out of my way looking for you, and he’d been born here. All the local werewolves were supposed to be dead, it’s why we moved here, remember.”

“That and he has shit control,” Graves said, ignoring Hotshot’s glare. “We only knew about you before today, because I sniffed you out in class.”

“That’s why it always felt like you were watching me.”

Graves nodded, “Have to keep an eye on the enemy.”

David started to bristle, but he couldn’t argue with Graves’s point. “Why didn’t I ever smell you?”

“I have a PhD in Chemistry.”

That was a good point, David realized.

“And now we have to move anyway, there goes my chances of ever making partner in a law firm,” Hotshot said.

“What, why do you have to leave?” Jack asked.

“Have you not been listening? The packs’ spy,” Hotshot gestured at David, “knows we’re here now. Which means it’s only a matter of time before the packs find out. And there is zero chance they don’t blame Graves for whatever the hell happened here. So unless you’re suggesting we kill h—”

“No!” Jack stepped between David and Hotshot.

“Then we’ll have to move.”

He was right. David knew it. He had to report this, a supposed werehyena was something he had to tell his parents and the packs about. Of course, he should also tell them about Mush. And Race. And Jack. And he should either bite Sean or kill him. But he hadn’t told them about Mush, hadn’t even considered it. He’d told Sean himself that he had no plans of biting him. He’d been plotting out ways to tell them about Jack and Race without having to explain anything else he’d found here, and he realized he’d only been considering that because he wanted to introduce his boyfriend to his parents, not because of his duty to the packs.

“Maybe not,” Mush said, “he hasn’t reported me to the rest of the dogs yet.”

David just shrugged in response to that.

“Speaking of you, what is a nagual doing in New York?” Graves asked. “Seems like we’re a bit outside of your stomping grounds.”

“Same thing as him,” Mush pointed at David. “We were worried something our ancestors bound had escaped. Again. And worried we’d be blamed for it. Again.”

“Why’d they send a kid though?” Hotshot asked.

“Convenient cover,” David said. “How many new college students come to the city every year? Adults moving in have to get apartments, set up a life, which would be easier for anyone monitoring the city to see. Thousands of college students move in at once, and no one is going to suspect an eighteen-year-old of being a spy.”

“Except another eighteen-year-old,” Mush said.

David nodded, conceding the point.

There was the sound of a key in the lock.

Mush turned his attention to the door, hiding his hands behind his back as telltale popping sounds revealed he was readying his claws.

Graves started to turn, but sniffed the air and stopped. “It’s just Sean.”

The door opened and Sean walked in, balancing one drink carrier on top of the other as he closed the door behind himself. He turned around and set them both on the ground.

“Your drinks, majesty.” Sean gave David a mocking bow. “Glad to see you’ve managed not to kill each other.” Then he pulled two drinks out of the carriers and walked past all of them to rejoin Race by the mirror.

“What are you watching?” Graves asked, gesturing after Sean.

David heard rustling plastic behind him and glanced back to see Jack picking up the bags of probably cold tacos.

“Blondie,” Mush pointed back at Race, “is the son of the last two dogs from the former pack. We’re watching their last day so we can figure out what happened here.”

“Well, good luck with that.” Hotshot turned around and headed toward the door. He stopped and turned back around when he realized Graves wasn’t following him. “Please tell me you aren’t considering staying?”

“You’re saying you aren’t curious what happened to them?” Graves asked.

“Since we need to go put our apartment on the market and look for jobs in Tibet, I don’t see how it’s relevant.”

“We’re not moving to Tibet, Joey.”

“Your name is Joey, Hotshot?” Jack asked around a definitely cold taco.

“Bite me, Cowboy.”

Jack shrugged and continued eating his taco.

“You really think the naga are going to be more accepting?” David asked.

“Fine, Zimbabwe then,” Hotshot said and turned toward the door again.

“If we leave now, we’ll have to move to Africa,” Graves said, “but if we stay then maybe we can convince Mr. Jacobs not to tell the packs about us.”

Hotshot spun around again. “Sure, maybe you threaten to fail him and he doesn’t tell them. But if he’s here, how long before they send more?”

“You wouldn’t actually fail me, would you?” David asked. If he failed a class his parents would force him to transfer.

“Mr. Jacobs, is now really the time for us to be discussing your grade?” Graves asked.

“No failing my boyfriend, I’m the only idiot allowed in the relationship,” Jack said.

David rolled his eyes but smiled. “Thank you, Jack.”

“Anytime.” David jumped when something swatted him on the ass.

“I know you didn’t just smack my ass in front of my chemistry professor.”

Jack started to laugh then covered it with a cough. “No, of course not.”

David felt like his cheeks were about to ignite in flames and found himself hoping that no one ever scryed on this moment. He considered killing everyone in the room so that there would be no witnesses. He’d miss Jack, though.

“He’s thinking about killing us all right now, isn’t he?” Mush asked.

“Probably,” Jack said.

“That doesn’t worry you?”

“Have you met my brother?”

“Point.”

“So, you two going to join us for mirror watching and broken tacos or go home?” Jack asked the two older shifters.

Graves turned his nose up and sniffed. “Please, we’re adults. We haven’t eaten Taco Bell since college.”

“There’s still burrito wrappers in our trash can, that you forgot to take out, again,” Hotshot said.

“Ixnay in front of the tudentsay.”

David rolled his eyes. He grabbed the drink carrier Sean had left by the door and turned around. He grabbed a soft taco out of the bag Jack was holding and headed for the mirror.

They’d had to run out for food twice more, and they were all grateful the water to the building hadn’t been turned off like the power. Even if it did make for very cold toilet seats. Hotshot had forced them to get some trash bags to cart out their trash and had spent half-an-hour in the basement prying up the candle stubs left over from the ritual. They were gathered around the mirror in the same positions as the night before, with the addition of Hotshot and Graves sitting behind them looking uncomfortable on the floor.

“So, Hotshot, why do you have this place anyway?” Jack asked.

“I don’t. It belonged to a client of the law firm, it was supposed to go to his fifth wife when he died, but the kids from wives one through four all sued. It’ll be locked up in court for years.”

“That explains how you have it, not why,” David said.

“I don’t need to explain myself to teenagers.”

Sean snorted.

They let the topic drop and focused back on the mirror.

Aidan was playing with young Race on the floor in front of the couch, while Elena was cooking dinner. They’d spent the day searching through all their tomes of ancient lore and found nothing more than the one highlighted line David had already seen. Mush had been shocked that the lorekeeper of New York had such a paltry collection of volumes, and David had been as well. He assumed she hadn’t been the original lorekeeper, and that most of the collection had been lost.

“Get Tony washed up,” Elena called from the kitchen.

“You hear that, Racer?” Aidan asked his son. “Time to wash your hands for dinner!”

“Food!” Little Race almost shouted and jumped off the couch.

Aidan jumped up after him and swung Race up in his arms before he could get to the kitchen. “You need to wash your hands first.”

“My hands are clean enough. I’m hungry!” Race struggled to escape his father’s arms.

“You’ve been picking your nose for half an hour, you’re washing your hands first.”

“Nice to see some things don’t change,” Sean said.

Race shoved a finger up his nose and then shoved it into Sean’s ear.

“Gross! Racer!” Sean fell backward to escape.

Race looked torn between chasing Sean and keeping his attention on the mirror. The mirror won.

“Who here saw that coming?” Jack asked.

Everyone except Graves, including Sean, raised their hands.

“Shh, this is my last chance to see my parents,” Race snapped back at Jack. “Unless you want to get another goat.”

“You sacrificed a goat to make this thing?” Hotshot asked.

“Yup, Billy is with Daoloth now,” Race said.

Graves whistled. “Didn’t think you lot were supposed to fool around with sorcery?”

“Well, um…” David looked at Graves and then back at the mirror.

Jack threw an arm around David’s shoulders and pulled him closer.

Aidan had just managed to get Race’s hands clean and had let him race ahead to the small table in the kitchen.

It looked like an idyllic family scene, or would have if David didn’t know his parents had lost a friend, an arm, and been drowned the night before. Also if he didn’t know this was the last meal Race would ever have with his parents. It was a triple batch of Hamburger Helper, but young Race seemed to love it.

“Did you call Madison?” Aidan asked when he sat down at the table.

Elena nodded. “She’ll be by in an hour to watch him.”

Aidan nodded and took a big bite. He and Elena proceeded to devour at least a box worth of food each, and it looked like Race was wearing most of the third box. Elena tried to scold him but was having a hard time not laughing as he pulled a clump of hamburger out of his hair and ate it.

On the outside of the mirror tears were again streaming down Race’s face. He was leaning against Sean’s chest, one of Sean’s arms wrapped around him, his chin resting on Race’s shoulder as he held him close and let him cry. Sean’s phone was in his other hand, recording the mirror.

“Put away the leftovers and then make sure we have everything packed up and ready, I’ll give our  _ corridorino  _ a bath.” Elena said, standing and picking Race up off his chair.

David, and he was pretty sure Mush, would have preferred to keep watching Aidan, but David couldn’t bring himself to fault Race for keeping the mirror focused on his mother.

Little Race was a nightmare in the tub, which David knew he should have expected. Elena got as wet as if she’d climbed in with him, but she did manage to get all the sauce out of his white-blond curls.

“You were a cute kid,” Sean said.

“Excuse you, I was fucking adorable,” Race said, around his tears, after elbowing Sean in the stomach.

David could only imagine how Race was feeling, but he was starting to wonder just how long it was physically possible for an oboroten to cry. His father had taught them not to cry in their combat training, it was a distraction you couldn’t afford in battle, and any moment could become a battle. Where was the water coming from? Were his tear ducts actively regenerating to allow him to cry this long? Was it going to leave him with some sort of salt imbalance? Was that even a thing? David had a lot of questions and very few answers. He shook his head and focused back on the mirror.

Elena finished toweling Race off and pulled a clean shirt over his head. A knock came from the front door, and they could hear Aidan answering and the babysitter from the night before answering him. Elena finished and Race darted out of the bathroom. Elena went and started to change her clothes.

Race leaned forward and touched the mirror, shifting the view away from his mother and to the living room, where his younger self was running in circles around the girl there to babysit.

“Thanks for coming on such short notice, Madison,” Aidan said.

“I’m always happy to take your money, Mr. Higgins,” The babysitter replied.

He chuckled. “We’ll be out pretty late, help yourself to anything in the refrigerator, and we left twenty dollars for take-out on the list of emergency numbers.”

She nodded.

The towheaded terror twining around her ankles started chanting, “Pizza! Pizza! Pizza!”

“Don’t believe him, his mom just finished washing dinner out of his hair.”

Elena came in, with Harold’s duffle bag from the night before slung over her shoulder. “Nice to see you, Madison, let your mom know I appreciate her letting you watch Tony for us again.”

“I will, Mrs. Higgins.”

“Well, you know where everything is. Come on, Aidan, we have to get to,” Elena hesitated before continuing, but David doubted the babysitter noticed, “the gym before yoga class.”

Aidan gave his wife a strange look, but went to their bedroom to grab his wallet and keys and then followed Elena out the door and down to the car. She threw the bag in the back and got in the passenger’s side while Aidan crossed to the driver’s seat.

“You sure this will work?” Aidan asked.

“I’m sure that if we don’t try then they’ll do it to us,” Elena said. “I won’t risk them coming near our son.”

“If we get killed tonight…”

She was silent for a few blocks, “Give me your wallet.”

He frowned, but at the next light he handed it to her. She pulled out his driver’s license and credit cards. She pulled out everything with his name on it, leaving only the cash. Elena emptied her own wallet of anything that could be used to identify her. She pushed in the cigarette lighter in the dashboard and opened the ashtray. She piled the plastic cards in it. She opened the glove box and pulled out some documents and a map. She ripped some strips of paper off the map and shoved them under and around the cards along with what looked like the SUV’s registration and insurance cards. The lighter popped out, she pulled it out and paused to look at the cherry red coil before pressing it to the map shreds.

Aidan rolled down the windows to let the smoke out.

“Anthony won’t change for years. There won’t be any way for them to find him.”

They drove in silence for a few more blocks while their identities smoldered in the ashtray.

“Did Sven ever try digging that tunnel outside the ward? Maybe we can try escaping that way?” Aidan asked.

“You know he did. There isn’t any way out of the city we didn’t try. The only way out is through Joe.”

Aidan’s face was grim when he nodded.

They drove on in silence.

“They ain’t expecting to survive,” Jack said.

David nodded.

No one else said anything.

“Where are they going?” David asked, he stayed near campus or let Jack lead him most of the time. After the weeks preparing for making the mirror he figured he might recognize the way to Brooklyn now, but that was the limit of his ability to navigate the city.

“Staten Island,” Sean said.

David pulled out his laptop and set it up with the camera facing the mirror. He figured he was breaking another half-dozen of his father’s rules. ‘Never take a picture of an oboroten’ and ‘Never take a picture of anything supernatural’ being the two newest ones he was breaking. He hadn’t even been away from home for three months and he’d thrown them all out the window. His father might literally kill him if he ever found out.

Aidan pulled into a parking spot somewhere in Staten Island. They got out and met at the back of the SUV. Aidan opened it. Elena handed him the bag and pulled out a small automotive toolkit. She closed the trunk and took off the license plate before putting the tool kit back. Aidan locked the SUV, threw his keys in the back, and slammed it shut. They walked down a nearby alley, Elena hopped into a dumpster and shoved the license plate into a garbage bag before hopping back out. Aidan set the duffle bag on the ground and unzipped it. Elena reached in and pulled a pair of metal rods bent into L-shapes and Aidan’s sword, which hadn’t been cleaned after the battle and was covered in charred blood.

“What are those?” Jack asked.

“Dowsing rods,” Mush said.

“Like to find water?” Jack asked.

“To find anything, if you have a sample of it, if you’re good enough with them,” David said, “and if you’re willing or desperate enough to trust an Outsider to tell you the truth.”

“And if what you’re looking for hasn’t been shielded by a counterspell,” Mush said.

Elena scraped some of the charred blood off the sword, mixed it with her spit, and smeared it on the tips of the rods. She closed her eyes and held the rods by their short sides, allowing the longer ends to swing freely. Aidan put the sword back, zipped the bag up, and shouldered it while she concentrated. She turned in a circle, and as she faced back the way they’d come the tips of the rods inched closer together.

“Southeast, maybe a mile or a little farther.” She opened her eyes and pocketed the rods.

Aidan nodded, and together they walked back out of the alley.

They walked into a more suburban area and got some strange looks as they continued down the quiet streets, past children riding on bikes, on a Monday night. Fifteen minutes later they stopped near a small copse of trees. Elena pulled the dowsing rods from her pockets and stepped behind the trees while Aidan kept watch. She turned in a circle, and again the rods grew closer together, this time even crossing. She stepped back out from behind the trees.

“Not much further,” she paused and looked around the darkened streets. “I’m not sure where they could be hanging out around here though.”

Aidan shrugged and waited for her to lead the way.

They walked two blocks further.

Elena pulled the rods out again, no longer caring if passersby might see her, and held them in front of her, they crossed when pointed at the house across the street. It was a two-story Cape Cod, although windows at the ends of the sharply peaked roof showed that at least some of the attic had been in use at some point. The paint had been white once but was faded revealing almost as much weathered wood. It looked like a haunted house straight out of an episode of Scooby-Doo.

“So which one of you lives in that house?” Mush asked.

“Not me,” Race said.

“Never seen it before,” Jack said.

“Hotshot? Graves?” Sean asked.

“No, should we have?” Hotshot asked.

“Right, you missed out on us finding out our high school principal was a member of this cult, that our high school bullies’ father was a member and was killed by Race’s parents, and that somehow the only two werewolves at NYU got assigned to the same dorm room,” Jack said.

David noticed that Jack hadn’t mentioned Sean’s mother, but didn’t think the newcomers needed to know that. Sean wasn’t rushing to volunteer the information either.

Elena and Aidan circled around the house and into the alleyway behind it. She checked the dowsing rods again, and they still pointed to the house.

“Back door or do you want to try some second-story work?” Aidan asked as he dropped the bag down and unzipped it.

She considered the house while bending the wire rods back and forth until they broke. “Second-story, I think, lets us clear the house without worrying about what's behind us.” She threw the broken remnants of the rods into the yard of another house. “They were pulling down though, so there’s a basement.” 

Aidan nodded, pulling out their last sword and a handgun. Elena pulled out two handguns, checking and loading them with practiced efficiency. There weren’t any other weapons left in the bag, and only one last magazine. They shared a long look at it before Aidan nudged it toward his wife with the point of the sword. She took it and shoved it in her back pocket.

The house was dark, but there had been a car in the driveway. There were other cars on the street out front, but whether for this house or one of the neighbors they couldn’t guess.

Elena boosted Aidan over the fence and then followed him, leaving the empty bag in the alley behind them. They stayed low as they crossed the yard to the lowest corner of the roof. They paused beneath and studied it for a moment. Aidan boosted Elena up, and then she leaned down to grasp his arms and pull him up. They eyed the lights in the nearby houses and crept across the roof, Elena probing each shingle with her foot to search for creaky boards before taking each step. After minutes they reached the nearest window, which was locked, of course. Elena waved Aidan forward. He examined the window while pulling a small toolkit out of a pocket. He flipped the kit open to reveal a pair of screwdrivers, a tension wrench, and several lockpicks.

Sean gave an appreciative whistle.

Aidan used a pick to probe around the window before switching to the flathead screwdriver. He slipped it around one of the panes of glass and popped it out without a sound. He set it on the roof next to the window, while Elena reached through and unlatched the window. They climbed into the house, closing the window behind them. Aidan took a last look at the nearby houses. No one was obviously watching them, but someone could have seen and called the police.

It was a bedroom decorated for a young girl. The furnishings far newer than the paint outside the house should have indicated, but still covered in a thick layer of dust. Elena eyed the furniture, her expression troubled.

Aidan pressed an ear to the door for a moment and then opened it a crack. He made a hand gesture showing it was clear the way he was looking. He opened the door further and used a small mirror from his pocket to check the rest of the hall, he signaled it was clear.

Elena followed Aidan out of the room. They left footprints in the dust, there weren’t any other footprints. They studied the dust for a moment and looked at the other doors leading off the hall. Elena turned and paced to the end of the hall. Stairs leading up. The dust on them was undisturbed. They turned and Aidan led the way to the other end of the hall, where they found the stairs down to the first floor.

They went down.

The first floor was also dusty, but numerous footprints disturbed the coating of dust on the floor. Two sets of shoes, at least one set of workboots, a pair of high heels, and two sets of inhuman prints that would match the fish-devils they’d seen the night before. The house was still silent.

Elena and Aidan moved from the base of the stairs. Handguns drawn, they started clearing the rooms on the ground floor one by one. Like the girl’s room upstairs the house was furnished, but long disused.

“I’m surprised the place hasn’t been robbed, all that stuff just laying around unguarded,” Race said.

“How far is that house from Medda’s, Jack?” David asked.

“Didn’t look that far,” Jack said.

“But you said you’ve never seen it?”

“Nope.”

“That doesn’t seem strange to you?”

“It’d be on the way to our high school, wouldn’t it?” Sean asked.

Jack closed his eyes in thought before answering. “Yeah, I think it would be. Maybe it was torn down before Ma adopted us?”

“Or maybe it’s warded to keep curious neighbors away,” Mush said.

David nodded.

“So how’d they find it?” Sean asked.

“The dowsing rods would have bypassed it. The  _ Veil of Eibon _ isn’t powerful enough to keep out someone determined to find something, just to prevent a passerby noticing anything,” David said.

Meanwhile, Elena and Aidan had found the once hidden entrance to the basement. In theory, it was still hidden, but the fact that all the footprints ended at the same wall in the kitchen didn’t require a genius to figure out. Elena stepped back and stood guard while Aidan felt around the wall. Finding no catch he pulled the leather pouch from around his neck and took out the severed finger he’d used the night before. He swiped it on the wall, and it slid open.

There was the sound of dripping water and the distant sound of voices. The stairs leading down were older than the house and solid stone. David was far from an expert, but he didn’t think the dark volcanic stone was anymore indigenous to the area than he was.

Aidan crossed the threshold and started down, his steps making only slight scuffing sounds on the moist stone. Elena followed, the wall sliding closed behind her.

The stairs spiraled down, flickers of firelight reflecting up from somewhere below. The two oborotni must have descended more than 30 feet before the stairs opened up to reveal a hallway made from slabs of the same volcanic stone as the stairs. David couldn’t imagine how hard it must have been to transport the stone to Staten Island, or why anyone would even bother. They passed several torches guttering on the walls.

“Why the fuck are they using torches?” Sean asked.

“I don’t see any electrical outlets in the solid stone walls,” Graves said. “Do you?”

Sean grumbled but didn’t say anything else.

There were several doors along the hallway, all made of newer wood. At the far edge of the torchlight, they could just see that the corridor turned to the left. Unlike the house above, the floor was dust-free. Which isn’t to say it was clean. The area was moist, and occasional drips of water fell from the ceiling to the floor; this had been happening long enough that tiny, twisted stalactites less than an inch long had started to form, with matching stalagmites forming beneath them.

The sound of voices grew louder as they moved down the hall, but the first room they checked was empty except for a few wooden crates so covered with mold David was amazed they were still recognizable. The voices grew clearer as they reached the next room. Aidan and Elena paused to listen at the door. Race touched the mirror and the angle of the view shifted to show the inside of the room.

The first thing David noticed was the two fish-people, the small dark red one who had taken off Elena’s arm and the double-crested deep-purple one who had killed Harold. The smaller one was sitting on a comfortable wooden chair opposite a well-dressed and well-groomed man in an identical chair. He was in his late thirties with the same protuberant eyes as they’d seen on the other cultists. Sean’s mother and a mustachioed man were sitting on a matching couch against the far wall. The purple one, trident still in hand, was standing guard over the red one.

Jack’s hand tightened on David’s. David looked at his boyfriend out of the corner of his eye. It was clear that he recognized the man. David glanced at Race and Sean. It was clear that they didn’t recognize him.

Jack mouthed the word, “Later,” to him.

David gave a tiny nod and turned his attention back to the mirror. He studied the man, he didn’t look anything like Jack, so he doubted he was a relative of Jack’s, although he didn’t think any coincidence would surprise him at this point.

“You cannot declare war on the people of the air,” the red one said. They had a Boston accent, and their voice was almost normal, just a little wetter. Like someone with a cold.

“They declared war on us!” The well-dressed man. “Have you forgotten what they did?”

“How dare you. My son died in a camp in the desert, his dried skin cracking as he screamed out in agony. You’re too young to understand what they did. We will never forget, but that doesn’t mean we can afford to go to war with them.”

“Not directly, no, but the answer is right before your eyes,” the man gestured to himself, Sean’s mother, and the other human in the room. “Teach us how to slow our transformation, how to hide it, and we can infiltrate their government. We can bring them down from the inside. I’ve seen the reports of what happened in that camp, this is the only way to make sure it never happens again.”

“What you’re asking is dangerous. We have no way to slow the change that doesn’t risk drying out your blood, you might never change. We’ve lost two generations of children to this madness, we will not lose more.”

“What good would that do me? You’ve spent too long in the sea, you no longer understand the realities of life here on land. We’ll never be safe from them.”

“And you are too young to know what you’re talking about,” the larger one almost snarled, they had a strange, thick accent that David couldn’t place. “When you have lived a thousand years beneath the sea, then you may have an opinion—”

The smaller one held up their hand and the deep purple one grew quiet. “She is right. You aren’t eldest on land. You aren’t even eldest in this city.” The red one inclined their head toward the man sitting beside Sean’s mother.

Sean’s mother focused her attention on the man, her gaze almost pleading. 

The man straightened up a little, ignoring Sean’s mother his eyes focused on the man in the chair. He swallowed before facing the dark red fish-monster. “I assure you, Mr. Pulitzer has my full support in this.” Based on the man’s body language, David suspected it was fear that motivated him, not support.

Sean’s mother rolled her eyes but wasn’t surprised.

“Nonetheless, there are too few of us left on land. Your colony here is too important to risk in a pointless war. We can—”

There was a scuffling sound from the door. 

The deep purple one spun toward it. “We aren’t alone.”

Pulitzer stood up and gestured at the door, it swung open to reveal Aidan and Elena fighting with Weasel, who must have snuck up on them.

David was horrified by the casual display of magic, as, it seemed, was the dark red creature based on the way they were staring at Pulitzer’s hand. Sean’s mother didn’t seem happy about it either but seemed resigned to the situation. That Pulitzer would use something with the high cost of magic for something as simple as opening a door was insane. He’d never even consider taking a risk like that. David was careful not to think about his own use of the fire spell he still didn’t know the cost of.

Aidan grunted in pain. Weasel had punched him in the face, and he reeled back with a thick line burned into his cheek. David wasn’t sure what could have caused it until Race spoke.

“Are those fucking silver knuckles?”

David focused on Weasel’s hand, there was a band of silver wrapped around his fist. He had to give Weasel some credit, he’d thought of something even David’s father hadn’t.

“Probably silver plated,” Mush said.

The deep purple fish-devil picked up her trident from where it had been leaning against the wall and stepped between the one in the chair and the door. “This is what you call secure?” She snarled without taking her eyes off the fight.

“Stop this at once, this violence is unnecessary,” the dark red one said as they stood up.

Pulitzer made a face of distaste as he looked at them. “And this is why you’ve allowed us to be beaten back for centuries. You don’t have the stomach to do what must be done.”

Race refocused the mirror on his parents.

“Down,” Elena called.

Aidan dropped to the ground and Elena opened fire on Weasel with the gun in her right hand.

Weasel dove to the side, but he cried out as his blood spattered on the floor.

Pulitzer sighed. “I see that if I want something done right, I’ll have to do it myself.”

Aidan and Elena spun toward the door, guns ready, but it was too late. Pulitzer flicked his fingers at them. The guns glowed red hot. Aidan and Elena struggled to hold on to them even as they grew hotter. Their flesh burned, but Elena pulled the trigger. The bullet caught in the near-molten barrel. The bullets still in the magazines exploded, taking both of Elena’s hands and one of Aidan’s with them.

Aidan charged in, swinging the sword held in his off-hand. David wasn’t sure if Pulitzer hadn’t targeted the sword with his spell, or if the sword’s own fire enchantment had protected it, but either way, it was the only weapon left to the two. At least it was until Pulitzer made a slashing gesture with his left hand, severing Aidan’s remaining hand at the wrist. Hand and sword fell to the cold stone floor.

Aidan continued forward dropping his shoulder and slamming it into Pulitzer. The well-groomed man fell backward, unprepared for Aidan to press the attack despite his wounds. David thought his father would’ve been proud.

Elena charged into the room. She glanced at the fishmen and then the pair of humans, but seeing that none of them seemed inclined to intervene, joined her husband in piling on top of Pulitzer. It looked like she was attempting to stab him with the charred ends of her arm bones.

“Enough!” Pulitzer shouted, a flash of sickly-green light erupted from him, knocking Aidan and Elena into the air, and everyone into the walls. The light coalesced and held everyone but Pultizer pinned in place.

“What the fuck did he sacrifice to have that much power on hand?” Mush asked David in a whisper.

“I can’t even imagine it was only one sacrifice,” David said, also in a whisper.

Pulitzer stood up, dusted himself off, and straightened his clothes. “The last werewolves in New York. I should have known you’d show up sooner or later. A bit far from the full moon though, isn’t it?” He took no action to free his subordinates or the two sea-devils from where they were pinned to the walls but stepped toward where Aidan and Elena were pinned to the wall. He stooped down to look at where the charred stump at the end of one of Elena’s arms had been. The palm of her hand had already grown back and the finger bones were beginning to reassemble. “Such a fascinating ability, far more useful than turning into a dog, I should think.”

She spit in his face.

He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket as he stepped back. He wiped his face and looked back at Race’s mother with distaste. “I shouldn’t be surprised that you have the manners of a dog too. Such a pity though. I’d offer you your lives if you had anything I wanted, but you don’t.” Another gesture of his hand sent a band of crimson force hurling toward their necks.

The mirror cracked and went dark.


	29. Our Best

“What happened?” Spot asked with Race shaking in his arms, tears running down his face as he sobbed in near silence.

“The spell was linked to his mother,” Davey said, “When she died…”

“Oh.” Spot turned Race around and let him cry on him.

Race’s arms snaked around Spot. He clung to him like he was the only thing in the universe. Maybe he was.

Jack wasn’t sure what to do. Race had just watched his parents get murdered, but it had happened fourteen years ago. Spot seemed to have things well in hand at the moment. Jack knew he shouldn’t feel jealous, but he’d always been the person Race turned to when things got shitty. He was his oldest friend, the only one who knew his secret for years. Jack knew he shouldn’t feel jealous, but he did.

Davey squeezed Jack’s hand. Jack looked over at him.

“Let’s not intrude,” Davey whispered.

Jack nodded, got up, and then helped Davey up. Jack looked around the room, and noticed Mush, Hotshot, and Graves already clustered near the door, all looking anywhere but at Race and Spot. Davey started to head toward them, but Jack tugged on his hand.

Davey looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Jack shook his head and led him off toward the garage. Mush looked suspicious as he watched them go, but no one tried to stop them. Jack stopped and started to say something, but Davey pressed a finger to his lips and led him to the far corner of the garage.

“Mush and Graves might still be able to hear us here, but it’s the most privacy we’re going to get.”

Jack nodded his understanding before speaking. “He’s my ex-girlfriend’s father.”

Davey relaxed. “Well, that’s not as bad as I’d been afraid of. I was worried he might be your father.”

Jack scoffed. “Please, I’m much more attractive than old fish-eyes.”

Davey smiled for a moment before his eyes turned serious. “Do you know where he lives then?”

“Yeah, well, I know where his house in Staten Island is. Big place, great security system. Not his only house by a longshot though, he’s got money.”

Davey hummed to himself. “Race and Sean never met him?”

“No. I mean they know Kath, but she and her father were estranged after her parents divorced. It’s not like he came to her school events, and I only met him twice when she was staying with him while her mom was jetting around Europe looking for a new husband.”

Davey stood there, but Jack could tell his mind was racing.

“I can smell the smoke, what are you thinking about?” Jack asked.

Davey’s eyes darted toward the other room then back to Jack’s face. “Not here, let’s get Race and Sean and go back to the dorm. Race has barely slept and he must be freezing, lets get him to bed. Then we can talk.”

Jack nodded and walked back toward the other room. Spot was still holding Race near the broken mirror, and the others were still near the door.

“How is he?” Jack asked his brother.

“Exhausted.”

Davey took off his coat and handed it to Spot. “Put that on him, we need to get him back to the dorm.”

Spot nodded while throwing the coat around Race’s shoulders.

Davey closed his laptop, which had still been filming the broken mirror, and started packing everything away in Spot’s gym bag while Spot coaxed Race into standing up.

“We need to do anything with that?” Jack pointed at the mirror.

Davey shook his head. “It’s just junk now.”

“Guess it’ll fit in around here then.”

Davey zipped up the bag and threw it over his shoulder. Jack suppressed a shudder, it was probably just the light, but at that moment Davey reminded Jack of Race’s father with the bag of weapons slung over his shoulder.

“Come on, let's get you home, Racer,” Spot said and steered Race toward the door where the other three were all clustered.

Race moved where Spot directed, but it was like watching a zombie. Jack knew what it felt like to watch your mother get murdered. He couldn’t remember for sure what state he’d been in after, but Jack couldn’t imagine it’d been any better than Race was then.

Spot fished the ring of keys out of his pocket and tossed them to Hotshot. “Thanks for the place ‘Shot.”

Hotshot snatched the keys out of the air and nodded to him. “We’ll be in touch.”

Davey unlocked the door and held it open. Spot steered Race through it and down the sidewalk toward the nearest subway station. Jack gestured for Mush to exit before, who glared at him but left, then Jack tipped his cap to Hotshot and Graves and followed the others out of Hotshot’s Secret Lair.

The subway ride was silent, except for Davey and Mush exchanging phone numbers. Mush left them to head back to his dorm when they arrived on campus, and the four suite-mates made their way back to their dorm together. Race still hadn’t spoken, not that any of them had tried to get him to.

“You mind crashing with your idiot tonight, Dave?” Spot asked once they were all in the room.

Davey looked at Jack, “You mind me crashing with you?”

“‘Course not, Davey. You know you’re always welcome in my bed.”

Davey chuckled and headed into Jack and Race’s room.

Spot led Race to his and Davey’s room and closed the door behind them.

Jack followed Davey into his room, shut the door, and locked it.

“When do you think we should tell them?” Jack asked while crossing the room to sit next to his boyfriend.

“About your ex-girlfriend?”

Jack nodded.

“Tomorrow maybe. Maybe a bit longer.” Davey rested his head on Jack’s shoulder. “You saw how he was, and how Sean is around him. They’d be off trying to kill Pulitzer before we could stop them if we told them right now.”

Jack nodded. “We can’t keep it secret for too long though. None of us have the best track record with that, at least not amongst each other.”

“I don’t know. Race and Sean managed to keep their mutual pining secret from each other for a long time.”

“I think that was more… whaddya call it… mutual ignorance, than keeping secrets.”

“So how serious were you and this girl?” Davey asked.

“Why, you jealous?”

Davey shrugged but didn’t deny it.

“We was as serious as two high school juniors could be. Thought we were in love, then at the end of the year, her mom moved across the country for her new husband and dragged Kath with her. We tried the long-distance thing, but what do a pair of seventeen-year-olds know about love?”

“We’re only eighteen, Jackie. You’re literally talking about a year-and-a-half ago.”

Jack chuckled. “You’re right, but I kinda hope this will end up better than that. Just don’t go falling for any guys named Darcy on me, alright?”

“Darcy?”

“Yeah, that was the guy’s name. Weird right? Still, I dated a guy named Blink, so not like I have room to criticize.”

“You do know that his name is actually Louis, right?”

“Nah, his name is Blink, only you and his Ma call him Louis.”

“Not his dad?”

“Died in the car crash when he lost the eye.”

“Oh,” Davey said. “I never asked how he lost it.”

“Car crash on the way home from a little league game, other driver was drunk.”

“Fuck.”

Jack wrapped an arm around Davey and pulled him closer. “Yeah.”

“Other than him and Kath, it was just Race when we were sophomores, and a few hookups. What about you?”

“Just two. JoJo and Benny,” Davey said.

“JoJo? And here I thought you weren’t a fan of nicknames.”

“Yeah, well his name is Josephino Jorgelino, so I made an exception.”

“Damn, his parents had it in for him.”

“We dated the last part of my junior year. Benny and I dated senior year, but broke up before winter break. They went to senior prom together.”

“Ouch.” Jack kissed the top of Davey’s head. “Well, I promise never to date any of your exes.”

Davey laughed. “If we don’t work out I’ll hold you to that.”

“So,” Jack said, but trailed off without finishing his thought.

“So what?”

“So… what do we do now. Now that you know what happened here.”

Davey sighed and sat up, turning to look Jack in the eyes. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Davey, you always know.”

Davey let out a bitter sound halfway between a laugh and a groan of pain. “I know what I’m supposed to do, but I’m not sure if it’s what I should do.”

“Well, why don’t you walk me through what you’re supposed to do?”

Davey scrubbed at his face with his hand and took a deep breath. “I should call my parents. I should report that I found two orphaned oborotni here.”

“Two?”

“I can’t exactly tell them that I bit you.”

“Why not?”

“Because then they’ll know that Race didn’t and that he let you wander around knowing about us for years. I could probably keep them from killing him, but things wouldn’t go well for him either.”

“I know they’se your family, but I can’t say as I like most of what I’m hearing about them.”

Davey shrugged but didn’t appear to take offense.

“But okay, so what you  _ should  _ do is tell them about Race and let him take his punishment.”

“Yeah, I guess. But I won’t. I was thinking we could say that Race bit you when he first changed and the two of you have been keeping it secret for years. No one gets punished.”

“Okay, so then what else are you supposed to do?”

“I report Mush. They send in all the nearby packs to hunt him down. They either ship him to Mexico or kill him.”

“I don’t suppose the fact that he was born in the U.S. would stop them from sending him to Mexico?” Jack asked.

“No. And they’ll definitely kill Graves and Hotshot. Who I’m definitely supposed to report. Then after they’re dealt with, they’ll march on this Pulitzer’s house and try to kill him.”

“It doesn’t look like that went so well last time. I mean, they knew who he was, and you said there was over a hundred of us here when you lost contact, right?”

Davey nodded.

“So, Pulitzer and his fish pals already faced down as many werewolves as you could probably get here, right?”

Davey nodded again.

“So, it sounds like doing what you should do, would get all of our friends killed, and then get a whole lot of other werewolves killed to boot.”

“I don’t know if Mush counts as a friend, and I don’t think Hotshot wants to be friends.”

“You and Mush were doing a lot of whispering around the mirror if you’re not friends.”

“He was sharing information.”

“Which is something friends do,” Jack said.

“Friends don’t wear rings of something you’re deadly allergic to.”

“True, but it’s not like we aren’t being cautious too.” Jack held up the hand where he was wearing the gold-plated ring Davey had given him. “And Hotshot is already Spot’s friend, so he doesn’t get a choice.”

“You just get to decide that he’s our friend now?” Davey asked.

“That’s me, King of Friendship. You may bow and exalt.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’m your idiot.”

Davey kissed Jack’s temple.

“So, now that we’ve covered what you’re  _ supposed  _ to do. What are you going to do?”

Davey leaned back and looked up at the ceiling like he was hoping the answer might be written there. “I don’t know.” Jack started to ask another question, but Davey held his hand up, and Jack let him continue. “I don’t want to get Mush hunted down. I don’t want to get Graves hunted down. I definitely don’t want anything to happen to Race. He didn’t know the rules he was breaking. Rules that I’ve been breaking since getting here, and I do know.”

“I smell a ‘but’ coming here.”

“But, we’ve had shit luck keeping anything secret. If I lie about all of this, and they find out…”

“Then they kill everyone anyway, plus us.”

Davey nodded. “I should have let them know about Race immediately. I could have argued that he had no way of knowing and probably gotten away with just a punishment for him and you being bitten. But now… now we’ve performed a goddamn ritual, invoked an alien god, if they find out about that I’ll be lucky to get away with just a beheading.”

Jack pulled Davey into a tight hug. “Well, we’re not going to let that happen. So we’re just going to have to get better at lying.”

Davey made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob against Jack’s chest. Jack noticed his shirt felt wet. Jack hugged his boyfriend even harder. Davey always seemed so strong and put together, Jack had never seen him cry before. He lay down, pulling Davey with him, and let him cry himself to sleep.

The next morning he woke up still in the clothes from the day before. His arm was pinned under Davey and he’d lost all feeling in it. He wondered how exactly that worked. He would’ve thought a werewolf would be immune to something like that. He’d have to ask Race or Spot if he ever remembered to.

He shifted his head to look down at Davey, trying not to wake him. He looked like shit. Peaceful shit, but still shit. Lines of dried tears ran down his face, snot was dried around his nose, and on Jack’s shirt now that he looked at it. It was a good thing Davey had taught him how to do laundry.

Jack pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time but found it dead. He’d only been able to get it a partial charge between mirror watching sessions and hadn’t thought to plug it in before collapsing into sleep the night before. He tried to figure out the time based on the angle of the sunlight coming in through the dorm’s single window but realized he’d never paid any attention to it before and had no idea if it was morning or afternoon. All he had to go on was that he felt well-rested.

He leaned over and kissed the taller boy’s forehead.

Davey didn’t react.

Jack repositioned himself and kissed Davey on the lips. It was a few moments before Davey started kissing back. Jack pulled back to see Davey blinking up at him.

“I feel like shit,” Davey said.

“Look like it too.”

“Oh, thank you for that.”

“Would you rather I lie?”

“At the moment? Yes.”

“Then you look radiant, you’ve never looked more attractive than you do right now.”

Davey chuckled. “Thank you.” He turned and glanced at the window. “What time is it?”

“No idea.”

Davey pulled his phone out. It was just as dead as Jack’s. “Well, guess I’m cutting class today.”

“Class?”

“It’s Monday, Jack.”

Jack blinked, that couldn’t be right. Race had made the mirror on Saturday afternoon, and then they’d watched his parents. They’d watched for two days. “Shit!” Jack sat bolt upright. “I’m late for class.” Jack tried to crawl over Davey, but Davey didn’t let him. “Let me go, I need to get to class.”

“Jack, it’s already afternoon. No point in panicking about it now.”

“You don’t know that for sure, your phone’s just as dead as mine.” Jack climbed over Davey and stood up.

Davey grabbed a hold of his hand and pulled him back down onto the bed. “The sunlight is coming from the west, it’s afternoon.”

Leave it to Davey to actually pay attention to which way the sun came from. “Shit.”

“Was there anything going on today you couldn’t make up?”

“No, but I don’t want the teacher thinking I’m skipping class.”

“I don’t either, but it’s too late now.”

Jack turned and looked down at Davey, still lying on the bed. “Where was this Davey last night when you were so stressed?”

“First, I am still so stressed. Second, when you’re caught between a murderous fish-cult and your own murderous parents, school sort of takes a back seat.”

Jack couldn’t argue with that, so instead, he pulled his phone out and crossed the room to plug it in next to his laptop. Then he turned on his laptop to check the time, it was just after 1 p.m. “Think they’re up yet?” He thumbed in the direction of Davey and Spot’s room.

“I have no idea. Race barely slept between the ritual and when we got back here, and that’s not even counting the emotional exhaustion they must have both gone through, seeing their mothers.”

“And just what the hell is up with that? Spot’s mother being part of the cult that killed Race’s parents? That’s just fucked up.”

“It is, but it does make some sense.”

“How does that make sense?”

“Sean’s mom was obviously upset about what was going on. If she left because of that… two boys, orphaned about the same time meeting each other isn’t that suspicious.”

“And my ex-girlfriend’s father? And you being randomly assigned to the only room on campus with another werewolf in it? And the only nagual in the country being roommates with my ex-boyfriend?” Jack ran his fingers through his hair. “At this point I’m just waiting to find out how my parents were somehow involved with all of this.”

Davey sighed and sat up. “I know. Someone, or something, is manipulating us.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, but it seems like they wanted us to find out what happened here. I have no idea what they want us to do now though, or if going along with all of this is a good idea.”

“So what do we do?”

“Our best.”

**Author's Note:**

> This exists in the same universe as my High School Musical series (which I wrote a long time ago, and don't necessarily recommend you read), but that isn't required reading at all.


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